


The Boy I Was

by byrdie119



Category: Teen Titans (Comics), Teen Titans - All Media Types
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:15:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 43,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26882752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/byrdie119/pseuds/byrdie119
Summary: Damian Wayne went to college to try and live a life of his own, away from the wealth and fame of his family name. As he finds fate is something he can't escape, a mysterious new girl enters his life and gives him a new hope that he didn't know was possible.
Relationships: Koriand'r/Damian Wayne
Comments: 11
Kudos: 21





	1. Damian

I woke up to someone pounding on the door. No wait, the pounding was in my head. Or was it both? I tried to open my eyes, blinking up at the ceiling. There was definitely someone pounding on the door. “Wayne,” they yelled through the wall, “get your ass up. It’s three o’clock.” I sat up, too quickly, and my head spun. The shades were closed, but it was still too bright in the room. Someone stirred next to me, a blonde woman, still passed out under the covers. Oh god, I thought to myself. Who the hell is she?

I glanced at the clock on the bedside table. 2:57 pm. “Shit,” I muttered, throwing the blankets back and pulling on my underwear. I rubbed the heels of my hands on my eyes, trying to wake up. My brain was so foggy, I couldn’t remember anything from the night before. “Um,” I shook the girl by the foot that was hanging off the edge of my bed. “Hey so, I had a great time, but I, uh, I have class.” She started moving, looking around the room like she didn’t know where she was either.

“What?” she asked.

I grabbed a pair of jeans from the floor that looked only semi-wrinkled. I found her dress and tossed it to her, hitting her in the face. “I’m going to be late to class. Maybe we can hang out sometime?” I knew I didn’t mean any of the words I was saying, but I had to get her out of here. The pounding on the door started again. “Damian! Your dad is going to kill you!”

“Wait, your dad is here?” she asked, a slight panic putting her in motion.

“No, he’s not-” I stopped myself, seeing this as an opportunity to get her moving. “He’s on his way, yah. You should probably go.”

She stood up, pulling her dress on, nearly falling over in the process. She stopped to look at herself in the mirror, trying her best to repair the smudged mascara around her eyes. She ran her fingers through her long, curly hair, and turned to me, smiling. “I had fun last night,” she said slowly, putting her hands on my shoulders. I knew she couldn’t remember it any better than me, but she had made it into my bed, which was something she could brag to her friends about, whether she remembered anything else or not.

I forced myself to smile back at her. “It was great. You were great.” I pecked her lips with mine and the door swung open.

“Do you have any idea what time it is?” Victor was standing in the doorway, a peeled banana in one hand.

“Call me,” the girl said to me as she walked past Victor.

He took a bite of the banana. “Again?” he asked, smirking.

I pulled a black button-down shirt on, fumbling with the buttons, my brain still trying to wake itself up. “What do you mean ‘again’?” I asked, irritated that he was enjoying himself.

“You don’t remember her from two weeks ago? Do you even know her name?”

I shoved my feet into my black boots, not bothering to tie them, and stuffing my arms into the sleeves of my coat. “Why do I have to know her name?”

Victor shook his head, laughing. “Are you going to be good to drive? You went pretty damn hard last night, man.”

I smiled at him and grabbed my notebook off the desk in the corner of the room, stepping on a mound of dirty clothes to get there. “Are you looking for an excuse to drive my car?”

“Why would I want to drive that piece of shit?” he asked sarcastically. I’d had my custom built gloss black sports car since my sixteenth birthday and I’d never let anyone else drive it and I never planned to. Victor had been drooling over it for years, hoping that someday, I’d let him behind the wheel. He also knew the chances of that happening were very slim.

I clapped him on the shoulder on my way out, closing the door behind me. “I’ll be okay. I’m going to be late.” I started down the stairs, when I stopped, realizing I’d left my phone in my room.

“Hey, next time you have a lady over, why don’t you spend a little time cleaning up your room. It’s a small thing that makes a big impression.”

“Victor,” I said, grabbing my phone off the bed and shoving it into my pocket. “You know I don’t care if they stay or not, right?” He shook his head. “Besides, what do you know about the ladies, anyway?”

“It works on men, too.” he laughed. “Get the fuck out of here. You’re late.”

\---

I burst through the lab door, half an hour late, marching straight to my seat. I could feel everyone’s eyes on me and I knew exactly what they were all thinking. _Spoiled rich kid, he’s late to class every day and somehow he still passes. When’s the last time he actually turned in an assignment? His dad just made another donation to the school, technically he doesn’t even have to show up to class anymore and he’ll still graduate._ I sighed, sliding into my seat.

“Mr. Wayne,” Professor Isley said from the front of the class. “I’m glad you could join us.” She wasn’t even facing the class, she had her back turned to us while she wrote on the board. Her red hair was pulled into a low bun at the top of her neck, a few pieces falling down her back, her black dress hugging her body in just the right way. There had been rumors about the two of us at the beginning of the semester, that we’d met up in the supply closet, fucking right on top of all of the boxes of unused petri dishes and beakers. As much as I wished it to be true, my father would have killed me with his bare hands if he found out I’d done something as distasteful as that. Not that it wasn’t something he wouldn’t do himself, but the rules were different for him.

“Glad to be here, Ms. Isley,” I mumbled, slapping my notebook down on the table.

She turned around, looking over the glasses on the end of her small, upturned nose. “Feel free to stop by my office after class. We’ve got some things we need to discuss.”

I heard someone snicker behind me. I stared at my hands and nodded. “Sure.”

“Now if you’ll please turn to page 250 of your textbooks, we’re going to take a closer look at the cell structure of the lily, before we start dissection.”

I made it through class without falling all the way asleep, only nodding off when Miss Isley was helping other students. My phone buzzed just before 4:30. A text message from my father. “Be here early. I won’t have you embarrass me like last time.” My throat tightened.

“Mr. Wayne,” Miss Isley said as everyone started filing out of the room. “If you have a minute…”

I followed her to her office down the hall, my thoughts drifting to my father. There was another gala this evening in the city, a charity event to raise money for the police force. My father had been working closely with the commissioner to end crime in the city, a task that seemed futile to me. I had been at a party on campus during the last gala event and had shown up well into the evening, already drunk. My father had sent me to my room, like a child, and I wasn’t allowed to come back down for the night. I had passed out and left the next morning without saying a word to him.

Miss Isley held her office door open for me, gesturing to a chair across from her desk, and closed the door behind her. “Now, I’d like to talk to you about your attendance.”

I sat awkwardly in the chair, my eyes never meeting hers as she sat across from me. “Um, I’ve just been a little busy with-”

She chewed the arm of her glasses, watching me closely, wondering what lie I was going to come up with. I watched her lips, her tongue, and lost my train of thought. I cleared my throat.

“Damian,” she said, her voice low, “you’ve been late or absent to so many of my classes. At this point in the term, there’s no way for you to make up all the work you’ve missed. You’re going to fail this class.”

The office was filled with plants, all different kinds of plants, that seemed to be watching me just as intently as Miss Isley was.

I swallowed, trying to stay focused on my lie. “Like I said, I’ve just been really busy with...other...things.”

“I’m not sure what’s taking up all your time,” she sighed, leaning forward on the desk between us, her low cut dress revealing parts of her that I’d fantasized about in my room. “I’d hate to have to get in contact with your father about this.”

I could feel my blood rushing through my veins. I squeezed my eyes shut. “Please, if you could just not say anything to him yet. There must be some kind of extra credit to make up for it?”

She smiled at me and leaned back again. “As a matter of fact…”

Just then, the door burst open, wiping the smirk off Miss Isley’s face. A girl stood in the doorway, tall with long hair, not quite red and not quite orange. Her skin was tan, like she’d spent her whole life on a beach in the sun. Her eyes were wide, innocent, and she realized she’d interrupted us. And I couldn’t feel more grateful. “Oh, I’m so sorry, I knocked and no one answered, but I heard voices, so I just thought I’d let myself in.” Miss Isley glared at her. “I’m sorry, I can come back if you’re busy, I just had a few questions.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” I said, standing up, pulling out the chair I had been sitting in for her. “I’m just leaving.” The look of annoyance at the girl never left Isley’s face.

The girl was flustered, but thanked me as she sat down. She smelled sweet, so sweet, like berries, as she passed me. I swiftly left the room, almost slamming the door on my way out.


	2. Damian

I drove along the winding rode, still wet from the afternoon rain, out of the city and towards my home. I knew I was driving too fast, almost becoming nervous about what may be lurking around the next bend. I could hear my mother's voice in my head reminding me that my stupid car was nothing more than a death trap on wheels. She was probably right, but that's what made it so much fun to drive.

The leaves had started changing color and the route was actually pleasant to view. I thought about slowing down, taking my time, enjoying the sights, when I glanced at the clock on the dashboard reminding me that I was cutting it close for time. Just then, I heard my phone ding on the passenger's seat beside me. I picked it up and glanced at the text: _Are you on your way, sir?_ Alfred. I shook my head and dropped my phone back on the seat. I was close enough that I didn't feel he warranted a response. My phone dinged again. "What the fuck do you want!" I yelled to no one in particular. It was Victor this time. _Good luck tonight, brother. Try to have fun._ Victor knew my father very well and I couldn't tell if his words were mocking or genuine encouragement. I decided to interpret them as the latter.

I finally rounded the final corner before seeing the black wrought iron fence that stretched across the front of the Wayne property. I had always regarded Wayne Manor as somewhat foreboding with its tall gates and brick structure. It seemed to be more of a fortress than my childhood home, but I tried not to complain. Surely other kids had worse childhood experiences than I did. I pulled up to the speaker at the front gate and pushed the buzzer. "There you are," Alfred's relieved voice came through the speaker and I waved at the small camera that he was watching me through. The gates slide open slowly and I punched the gas, leaving tire marks on the pavement.

I parked outside the front door, quickly collecting myself before I went inside. It would take a lot of self-control to make it through the night without spiraling into a shouting match with my father at some point. I inhaled deeply, held it, and exhaled, a trick that was taught to me by someone who understood. Someone who, at one point, had the power to fix everything bad in my life with only her mere presence. Not anymore. Now she was gone and I had no one to rely on but myself. This would be a long night.

"You had me worried." Alfred was waiting just inside the door, ready to hang my coat on the rack as soon as I entered. He pulled me into a hug, which I didn't know I needed. I held him a little longer than necessary, but he didn't let go until I did.

"It's good to see you, Alfred," I said, trying to contain my smile.

"Yes, well, I'm sure it wouldn't kill you to come around more often. It would please us all very much."

I heard laughter from another room and pointed down the hall. "Is she here?" I asked, unable to contain my smile this time.

"In the parlor, sir. The barber will be here in ten minutes though, and you shouldn't be late."

I ran a hand through my hair. It was starting to get long, covering my ears and falling to one side of my face. "My hair is fine, Alfred."

He shook his head, smirking. "You know your father won't approve."

"Fuck my father," I responded. 

"Language." 

"Sorry. I won't be late, I swear it."

He was smiling again. "Very well. It truly is good to see you, Damian."

I made my way through the familiar house, memories coming back to me, but not feeling totally at home. I had only been gone away to college for a year, but it felt like much longer. The walls were bare, no childhood photos to remind me of my time growing up, the glass chandelier throwing light onto the empty walls. Maybe it was better this way; there was no nostalgia, nothing to miss about this place besides the memories I'd made with my family. Especially my sister.

Helena was sitting at a small chess table, her back to me, resting her chin in her palm. Across from her sat another familiar face, Tim Drake, the latest apprentice to my father. Tim had been recruited when I had made the decision to attend university rather than follow in my father's footsteps. I had speculated that my father had hoped I would become jealous of Tim and beg to be returned to my rightful place, but instead, he'd ended up more like an older brother to me. 

Tim looked up when he saw me enter the room and I put a finger to my lips, walking quietly up behind Helena. I threw my hands in front of her eyes, her whole body jumping in surprise. "Guess who?" I whispered in her ear. Before I had time to react, she'd whirled around snaking an arm around the back of my neck, putting me in a headlock and sweeping my legs out from underneath me. We both went down to the wood floor hard, landing on our backs, Helena pinning one of her legs over mine. "Holy shit, Helena," I choked. Her laugh rang out like silver bells as she loosened her hold on me enough that I could sit up.

"Damian!" she squealed, throwing her arms around me, hugging me in a vice grip. "We didn't know if you'd show up!"

"Hey, D," Tim said, waving from the table.

I nodded at him and winked, hoisting Helena over my shoulder and holding both her wrists with one hand. "Where'd you learn a take down like that?" I asked, tickling her feet. Her legs thrashed, her laughs coming out as chokes.

"Put me down!" she screamed, freeing one hand and pounding on my back. I set her down, her long hair covering her face. She stuck out her lower lip and blew a puff of air, her hair barely moving. I pushed it out of her eyes and smiled at her. 

"You've been training, haven't you?"

She nodded enthusiastically. "Daddy insisted that I learn how to fight off boys before I graduate. 'You know how dangerous Gotham is'." Her impression of our father was actually spot on and I laughed. 

"If it's any consolation, she took me down much faster when I got here," Tim said, coming over to shake my hand. We stood eye to eye, despite him being a few years older than me. My height, my mother said, came from her side of the family. As well as my dark hair and caramel skin and long eyelashes. Helena had always told me she was jealous of my Middle Eastern heritage, saying that my people were blessed with exquisite natural beauty. 

"He never saw me coming," Helena bragged. 

"Yah, well you can only sneak up on me once," I said, crouching and readying to spring myself in her direction. She side-stepped my attack and shoved me over the back of the blue velvet couch in front of the fireplace. She flipped herself over it and landed gracefully on top of me, shoving her forearm into my neck, pinning me again. 

"What were you saying?"

I grabbed her behind her knees, flipping her onto her back and crossing her arms over her chest, pressing down firmly. "You lose."

"For God's sake, Damian, get off your sister."

Bruce was carrying a tumbler of whiskey, his white button down shirt unbuttoned and untucked. Even disheveled, he radiated authority. 

"Oh Daddy, but I was winning," Helena whined underneath me.

"Don't fucking lie," I said, pressing down harder on her arms. She giggled.

"Do not use that language in front of your sister. And go see the barber. He's been here for fifteen minutes, waiting for you."

I shoved Helena's face to the side and stood up. I stuck out a hand to help her up, which she accepted, gracefully landing on her feet. "You might want these," she said, holding my car keys in her hand. I snatched them from her, not entirely sure when she had swiped them off of me, impressed by her surreptitiousness. Bruce was fixing his collar in the mirror next to the fireplace. "Hey, Dad," I said, standing close to him, but not too close. He turned around and stuck out his hand.

"I'm glad you made it," he said, giving my hand two firm shakes before releasing me. "Surprised, but glad." He turned to face the mirror once more. "Now would you please go do something about that hair."

\---

Galas were one of biggest reasons I didn't want to apprentice my father. I hated the entire principle of them; throwing a fancy party to ask people for money for a cause in which they may not even believe, but as long as they were seen at said gala, they were in fact climbing the never-ending social ladder that so desperately mattered to most people in this city. Plus I hated wearing a tie.

Bruce had decided to throw this particular gala at Wayne Manor, something that he rarely ever did. Normally, he tried to keep his work life separate from his private life, which he had never been good at. I myself was living proof of that. He had met my mother at a function not unlike this one, before getting into bed with her, in a business sense and also quite literally. He had done business with the al Ghul's from the time of my conception until my sixth birthday when my sister was born. After Helena joined our world, my mother and father's business life and private life fell apart simultaneously. I had spent the next twelve years living at Wayne Manor with my father and traveling to Dubai to spend the summers with my mother and her family. Because of this, I was never able to form a solid relationship with my father, partly because my time had been so split between my parents and partly because I had blamed him for breaking up their marriage in the first place.

People had started arriving at 6:30, slowly winding their way up the long driveway and leaving their vehicles with the valet. The men wore suits that were tailored to fit and the women wore jewelry that was on loan. The house had been cleaned spotless and the first floor reorganized to allow for maximum space for guests. I could hear the first murmurs of arriving businessmen and women, politicians, and other important people from the city while I got dressed in the suit that was laid out for me. I thought back to the last time I'd shown up to one of these events and suddenly I could smell her perfume around me. I could see her diamond necklace sparking in the low lights, her white smiling gleaming. I could feel her hand in mine.

I made my way downstairs, intending to find the nearest glass of alcohol when I heard my name called. My mother. "My darling boy, you look an absolute dreadful mess," Talia said, pulling me down to kiss me on the cheek, making sure not to actually touch her blood red lips to my skin. "Have you been getting enough sleep?"

"Hi, Mom," I said, taking her hand.

She ran a thumb over the bags under my eyes, looking me over. "I told your father not to let you go to a public university, they expect too much of you."

"Mom, I'm fine," I mumbled, pulling away from her. 

"At least the barber did a fine job on your hair. Turn around, _habibi_ , and let me see the back." She ran her hand over the close-cropped fade I'd been given. I groaned and she picked invisible lint off my lapels. "Your father, is he around? I suppose I should say hello."

"Ah, Miss al Ghul. Nice to see you. Master Wayne is just this way," Alfred put out his arm for my mother to take, leading her to the entertaining room. 

She wiggled her fingers at me over her shoulder. "I'll speak with you soon, darling. I want to hear about all you've been up to while you've been away."

I nodded, watching them go, and choking on my air when I turned around to see Miss Isley walk through my front door. Tonight, she wore an emerald green mermaid dress that reached the floor. Her long hair was curled and fell over her shoulders, shining a halo around her head. She was not wearing her glasses, as I was used to seeing, and she looked more appealing than I could have imagined. I grabbed a glass of champagne off a tray that passed in front of me, downing the whole thing in one gulp, when she spotted me and waved. I tapped the mint tin in my jacket pocket, reminding myself that it was there. It was full of a cocktail of pills I'd taken from bathroom cabinets I'd found myself in over the years, along with a few rolled joints. I always brought it to special occasions, such as this. Miss Isley sauntered over to me, smirking. "Well hello there," she said in a low voice, looking me up and down. "Don't you look dashing this evening."

I rolled my eyes. "What are you doing here?" I asked her, my words coming out clipped and forced.

Her smile widened. "I'm here on behalf of the university, of course. You're father has been such a generous contributor to our school, it would have been plain rude to turn down such an invitation as this," she explained, taking a step closer to me. I could almost feel her body heat. I swallowed. "Why don't I go say hello and we can catch up later?" She put her finger under my chin and winked before leaving me alone once again. 

I was able to maintain a steady flow of alcohol throughout the evening, eventually ending up in a comfortable, numb state. I managed to mostly avoid conversation with guests, somehow diverting everyone to Tim or Helena instead. I had told my father that I would attend the event, not that I would socialize with his admirers, and that's what I intended to do. I found myself at the bar again, asking for a refill off whatever liquor I had previously, but the bartended shook his head. "I'm sorry, sir, Mr. Wayne has instructed me to cut you off."

I scoffed. "You've got to be kidding me," I mumbled, only slightly slurring my words. "Do you know who I am? I _am_ Mr. Wayne!" The bartender's eyes were wide and I realized how loud I had been talking. There were a couple of curious glances in my direction; I held up my hands and sighed. "Fine. I'm sorry for the trouble." I turned around, leaning against the bar.

"You can have mine," Miss Isley said beside me.

"God, will you leave me alone?" I spat, but I couldn't take my eyes off her face.

"You know," she said, stepping too close to me again, "you're right about these things. They're not very much fun, are they?" I ground my teeth together, glancing around the room, searching desperately for Tim or Helena to save me. "We could always go somewhere quieter and less crowded." Her arm was resting against mine now. She had totally invaded my personal space. My first instinct was to tell her to fuck off, but there was something magnetic about the way her dress hugged her body that I couldn't look away from. The low murmur of constant voices was suddenly overwhelming. I took the glass from her hand and downed what was left, slamming it on the bar behind us. I rolled my eyes and nodded for her to follow me, leading her through the throng of people, out of the room and up the stairs. She glanced over her shoulder once as she climbed slowly behind me. I took her by the hand to hurry her up and she laughed. "I can only go so fast with these heels on, sweetie." When we reached the top of the staircase, I scooped her up, carrying her into the nearest empty room. She laughed again as I stumbled over the rug in the middle of the dimly lit room and setting her on the desk that was there. My father's office.

There was a small lamp on the desk that provided just enough light for me to dig out the tin from my pocket and set it down beside her. I sat down in my father's chair and dug out a small yellow pill. I stood in front of her, taking her by the chin and pulling her mouth open. "Say ah," I whispered, pressing the pill to her tongue. She wrapped her lips around my finger and swallowed the pill, her eyes drifting slowly shut. I watched her as the pill dissolved inside her, making its way through her veins. Her head tipped back, exposing her throat, and I pressed my lips to her pale skin. I felt her pulse under my tongue, uneven and quickening. I kissed her neck, down to her collar bone and back, her hands pushing my jacket off my shoulders. When my lips found hers, I heard the blood rushing in my ears and I pulled away, looking down at her again. Her eyes were still closed. 

I sat back down in the chair, looking through the tin for another yellow pill when she stood up in front of me, swaying. "You're a very beautiful boy," she said, taking my face in her hands. She placed her knees on either side of my hips, kissing me again and unbuttoning my shirt. 

"No," I mumbled against her mouth, taking her hands in mine. She persisted and I said it again, more firmly. "No."

"Do you want to pass my class or not?"

I watched her chest heaving in front of me, could feel the warmth radiating from between her legs. I sighed and closed my eyes and she came into my mind: Donna. It was her I was kissing, it was her hands unbuckling my belt, unzipping my pants. It was Donna who sighed as I entered her, Donna moving slowly on top of me. I kept my eyes closed, leaning my head back against the chair, feeling Donna's skin, hair, mouth. Her fingers ran roughly through my hair, her warm breath on my cheek as she called out my name and then it stopped. She sat still, unmoving, while I stared at the dark ceiling, wishing I'd never brought this woman in here. This woman who wasn't Donna.

Miss Isley sat back and looked down at me. "If you're ever late to my class again, I'll fail you." 

She stood up, readjusting her dress, and quietly made her way out of the room and I was left alone in the dark. I covered my face with my hands, trying to make the room stop spinning. I lunged for the small wastebasket next to the desk and threw up, mostly missing the basket at all. "Fuck," I whispered, spitting once and laying back on the floor. I thought about my father and how disappointed in me he'd be. I thought about my mother and sister and wondered if someday they, too, would leave me broken like this. I thought about Tim and wished he'd been here to stop me from doing one more thing I knew I'd regret. And I thought about Donna and why I wasn't enough for her, why she didn't stay. _You're not the first man to experience heartbreak,_ my father had told me when he found out we'd broken up. I may not have been the first man to experience it, but it was certainly the first time I was experiencing it. And obviously, I wasn't handling it well.

I held back tears as I rearranged my clothes, using my fingers to try and smooth out the mess Isley had made of my hair. I wiped my mouth on the back of my hand and took a deep breath, stepping back into the hall, almost bumping into Helena. "There you are," she said, a look of worry on her face. "Daddy was looking for you." She took in my disheveled appearance and glanced over my shoulder into the office. "What were you doing in there?" she asked. Little Helena, so innocent and naive at only fourteen years old. I was glad that she couldn't have put the pieces together. 

"Nothing, I'm fine. What does Dad want?"

The look of worry didn't leave her face. "He's going to make a final toast and send everybody home. He wanted you to be there." I nodded, hoping that I didn't smell too strongly of booze. Helena turned and headed for the staircase. "Don't forget your jacket."


	3. Damian

I listened to the sound of crows cawing outside my window, staring up at the high ceiling of my bedroom. I tried to make sense of what had happened last night, wondering how I had ended up here, in this mental and physical state. I reflected on my actions, trying to remember if I had done anything that would warrant a classic interrogation from my father, which was inevitable if I went down to the dining room for breakfast. I could smell bacon wafting from the kitchen and decided that whatever hell my father chose to unleash on me this morning was worth it, if only I could eat something.

"Look who finally decided to join us," Bruce said as I entered the room after showering and brushing my teeth. I felt a million times better after cleaning myself up, though the feeling of my short hair had been a shock as I rubbed shampoo through it. I had almost forgotten that the barber had cut it shorter than normal, at the request of my father.

Helena sat to my father's left, scrolling through her phone, a bowl of fruit on the table in front of her. I ruffled her hair as I passed her.

"Where did you end up disappearing to last night? I had to send Helena on a rescue mission to bring you back to the party," Bruce was holding a newspaper up, flicking dramatically between the pages, obviously not actually reading a single word. I sat in the chair to his right, grabbing a handful of bacon, gnawing a chunk off and sighing, content.

"I had some business to attend to," I answered, talking around my food and using one of his favorite excuses for never explaining himself. I sure was pushing him early this morning.

"Don't talk with food in your mouth, Damian," he scolded, glancing around his newspaper. I knew he was gauging my attitude, trying to decide how best to handle me, which meant I had to act cockier than I felt. "You know, there were a lot of important people there last night. In fact, I had the pleasure of talking with Miss Isley from GCU. She's your botanist professor, correct?"

I swallowed loudly. He sure wasn't tiptoeing around anything this time and it caught me off guard. Shit. "She is," I answered shortly, hoping that the less I said, the more likely he'd be to drop the subject.

"She had nothing but good things to say about you."

I glanced up at Helena again, who turned her phone off and stuffed a handful of grapes in her mouth. She was avoiding my eyes, undoubtedly thinking back on catching Isley and me leaving Bruce's office consecutively. Maybe she wasn't as naive as I had assumed. Shit.

"Uh, yah, she's a pretty good teacher, I guess." 

"Helena told me you and Miss Isley had a chance to catch up last night. In my office."

 _Sorry_ , Helena mouthed at me, looking genuinely repentant for her unintentional slip.

"Dad, we were just talking," I said, tracing the condensation on the outside of my glass of orange juice.

Bruce slapped the newspaper down onto the table. "At least look at me when you lie to me," he snapped, his voice raised.

"What do you want me to say?" I said, matching his tone.

"What the hell is this?" he asked, pulling my mint tin from the pocket of his pants, slamming it down on top of the newspaper. "Does this belong to you?" There was fire in his eyes now.

"Daddy, please don't yell," Helena said quietly.

My heart felt like it had climbed up my throat. "Where did you get that?" I asked, reaching for the small container.

"The maid found it under my desk when she was cleaning up the mess you left. Now," he snatched the tin back, stuffing it back into his pocket. "Are you going to stop lying to me and tell me the goddamn truth or am I going to have to pull it out of you myself?"

"Helena, why don't you go pack your things?" I said in the most even tone I could manage. Helena had big, shiny tears welling up in her eyes and she hooked a thumb toward the pile of luggage at the bottom of the stairs. 

"I'm already packed," she answered in a shaky voice, trying desperately to hold her tears back.

Bruce was still staring bullets into me. "Dad, please, can we do this later?"

"We're doing this right now!" he shouted, and I could've sworn I saw the chandelier quiver.

"Look," I started, crossing my arms and resting my elbows on the table. "I'm just doing what I have to in order to-"

"I don't want your excuses anymore, Damian. I just want the truth from you. What are you doing to yourself? Why are you doing this?"

It was the first time I'd ever heard anything resembling concern coming from my father. He rubbed a hand over his eyes, massaging his forehead. Helena's tears slipped out silently, shattering my heart into a million pieces. "I'm having a difficult time, is all," I answered as honestly as I had all morning.

"Son if you're having a difficult time, you ask me for help, you don't get high and fuck your teacher."

"Daddy, please," Helena whimpered.

I shoved my chair back, standing up. "Okay, I'm not dealing with this right now. That's my private business and I won't have you-"

"Sit down!" Bruce shouted again.

Just then, the front doorbell sounded, a low chiming of bells that rang out through the whole house. Helena wiped her tears with the back of her hand, trying to compose herself. "Mom's here," she said in a nearly normal voice.

Moments later, Alfred entered the dining room, Selina in tow. "Well good morning, everyone," she greeted us. A look of concern crossed Alfred's face as he made eye contact with me. He pressed his lips together, nodding.

Bruce sighed. "Good morning, Selina."

"What have we here," she said, walking around the table to stand with her arm around my waist, looking up at me. She was not oblivious to the tension in the room, but she was choosing to ignore it, and for that, I was relieved. "When did you get so tall, Damian? And so handsome." She pulled my face down to kiss each of my cheeks, holding me by the chin. "You look so much like your father when he was young."

She made her way to Bruce's side, laying a languid hand on his shoulder. "So sorry I couldn't make it last night," she said, winking at me. "I had some business to attend to." I smirked, acknowledging she was using the same line I used earlier to irritate my father. He kept his composure.

"You were dreadfully missed," Bruce replied sarcastically.

Selina leaned down near his ear. "Aw, did someone wake up on the wrong side of the bed this morning?" she purred. I loved watching the way she worked him like this, bringing him down off his high horse, making him just as vulnerable as the rest of us. I had always believed that Selina had been the true love of his life. Yes, he had loved my mother, but he was different with Selina. I could tell he regretted letting her leave him.

"Kitten, go help Alfred load your luggage." Helena nodded, pushing her chair in quietly.

I waved her over, wrapping my arms around her. She rested her chin on my chest, looking up at me. "I love you, Damian. I want you to be okay."

I kissed her on the forehead. "You don't need to worry about me."

"You're the only one I worry about."

I ruffled her hair again, releasing her. "Next time I see you, I'm going to kick your ass," I said as she walked out of the room. I heard her tinkling laugh in the hallway.

Selina took the now vacant seat of her daughter's. "Now, what were we talking about?"

Bruce sighed in annoyance. "It's actually quite a personal matter, Selina, if you don't mind."

She popped a piece of pineapple into her mouth. "Let me guess," she said, sitting up straight. "Damian here has done something to upset you and you can't bare to imagine why he would defy his loving father, am I close?"

Bruce sat, blinking blankly at her, trying to convey a 'you're not part of this' tone to her. "Okay, Bruce, Damian, here's what I've learned over my short years on this earth. Parents make rules based on their own mistakes from the past in an attempt to atone for their transgressions. It is inherent that you in turn break these rules," she said, nodding at me. "But part of becoming your own adult is realizing that you can't always have your way. Sometimes things go horribly wrong and the only way to atone for it is to leave it in the past. Move on from it, in any way you see fit." She looked at Bruce now. "You dealt with your losses by building this wonderful life you now have. Damian, you dear sweet boy, do what you need to move through your pain to the other side, but don't harm yourself in the process. You need to find something good to get you through it, and it may take time, but you'll find something good. I can feel it."

\---

Victor and I sat on the hood of my car, smoking cigarettes in the shade of the parking garage. I had recapped the gala and the following morning to him, as accurately as I could remember it, leaving out nothing. He had been my best friend for the majority of my life and I couldn't hide anything from him if I wanted to. He had never held anything against me or judged me and was able to commiserate without enabling. On more than one occasion, I had referred to him as my guardian angel. 

He pulled the collar of his peacoat higher around his neck as a cool breeze whipped through the space. "Damn, Damian," he commented after I was through. 

I nodded, staring at my untied boots. "I think the only option I have is to drop the class. I can't go back there after all of this."

"Do you think Bruce will be upset if you do?"

I shrugged, pulling in a long drag. "It's still early in the semester. There's still time to pick up a different class."

An orange Corvette screeched past us, echoing loudly against the concrete walls, bass thumping from the back end of it. It pulled into an empty spot a few spaces away from us, Kal Durham stepping out from the driver's side. He grabbed a duffel bag from the trunk and his passenger stepped out moments later. It was the girl with the dark hair that had interrupted my meeting with Isley the day before. She had the top half of her hair pulled up on top of her head, accentuating her sharp cheekbones and her large eyes. She had a camera in her hands, pressing different buttons before holding it in front of her right eye. She looked through the viewfinder, twisting the lens into focus, pointing it around the garage. Kal slid an arm around her waist, kissing her around her camera and she smiled. I hadn't realized I was staring until she turned the camera in my direction, pressing down on the shutter button. I looked away quickly, hoping she hadn't caught me, but when I looked again, she was still turned in my direction.

"Asshole," Victor said, dropping his cigarette on the ground and stomping it out.

"What?" I asked, bringing my attention back to him.

"Kal Durham. That guy's a dick."

I cleared my throat. "You know him?"

Victor nodded, watching Kal and the girl retreat toward the exit. "I was at an athlete's dinner with Wallace a few weeks ago and Kal was there. If you ever wondered what conceited personified looks like..." Wallace and Victor had been dating since high school, where Wallace had been a track and field god. He set all the records for the school team, leading us to state championships all four years. It was a given that he'd run for GCU and he only got better. He had hoped to be a professional athlete, which boggled Victor's mind, who decided to study mechanical engineering. He had joked that one of them would need to provide for their family some day and running in circles wasn't going to cut it.

"He doesn't like you, in case you were wondering," Victor said, smirking. 

"Why the hell not? I don't even know who he is."

"Exactly. You're a Wayne and you have no idea who he is. The only two reasons he needs to hate you."

"Whatever, man." I dropped my cigarette next to Victor's and he stubbed it out for me. "Who is that girl he's with?" I asked, trying to sound innocent about it.

Victor looked over at the exit they had passed through. "She's a transfer, I think. Just started at GCU this week."

"Does she have a name?"

He shoved my shoulder. "I thought you didn't care if they had names?"

"Dick!"

Victor laughed and checked his watch, one he had built himself. "We're going to be late for dinner with Logan and Rachel. You want to head out?"

I nodded, wondering if the sweet fruity scent I was smelling was real or just in my head.


	4. Kory

I bounded through the door, straight to the kitchen, dropping my backpack along the way. I went to the refrigerator, grabbing a jar of pickles, twisting the top, while Kal slowly caught up to me. I thrust the jar behind me, into his face. "I can't get this open, will you help me?"

He took the jar from me, snorting. "How are you always hungry?"

I shrugged, pulling a jar of peanut butter out of a cupboard, sliding up onto the counter, kicking my legs like a child. Kal popped the pickle jar open, setting it down next to me. "You know," he said leaning against the counter, watching me dip my index finger into the peanut butter, "I was planning on taking you to dinner this evening. But if you insist on pigging out now..."

I hated when he talked to me like this, like I was a child and he was my father, always trying to correct me in every way. _You use too much soap for your laundry. Why don't you cut the stems off the broccoli before you cook it instead of after? I hate it when you listen to Swedish music._ It seemed like no matter what I was doing, I was doing it wrong.

I first met Kal the summer before the semester started. I had just moved to the country full time from my home in Sweden, where my father decided to stay. I was raised there with an English speaking mother, who decided to leave my father and me when I was fourteen years old. I had expressed an interest in attending university to my father, who was very supportive of the idea, though I felt guilty leaving him alone so far away. He finally convinced me that staying home was holding myself back, so I packed my bags and headed for the city. 

Gotham hadn't been what I was expecting, but I decided to make the most of it while I was here. I had an interest in photography, taking photos and selling them to newspapers when I was in high school, so I continued to pursue that interest in Gotham as a starting off point. I had been working over the summer and was having success with photography, making me rethink my decision to attend university. I spent the summer photographing everything. People, architecture, landscapes of the city. I was on a beach, photographing a young mother and her child, reminiscing about the days my own mother would take me to the beach, when a tall, blond boy approached me. "You seem like you really know what you're doing with that camera," he said, his smile lighting up brighter than the sun. He introduced himself as Kal, he was a lifeguard at the beach during the summer when he wasn't practicing as a swimmer for Gotham City University. I gave him my phone number and we'd spent every day together since.

In the beginning, he had made me feel like the luckiest girl on the planet. I didn't know anyone in the city so I relied on his knowledge for the best places to eat, drink, and especially his advice on college. I told him about my hesitation toward giving up my freelance work to go to school instead, but a couple weeks into the semester, he finally convinced me that GCU had one of the best arts programs in the city. I was accepted and moved into his apartment with him after a month of dating. My father called to ask how I was getting on and when I told him about Kal, he warned me to be careful of who I was trusting. Kal, he said, may seem like a knight in shining armor now, but there was always a chance that he would expect more than what I was willing to give.

Kal stuck his own finger into the peanut butter jar, swirling it around, and holding it in front of my lips. I shook my head, screwing the lid back on and reaching for the pickles, but he persisted, smearing some of it on my lips. "Open up," he said, forcing his finger into my mouth. 

I tried to force a smile, swirling my tongue around his finger, sucking the peanut butter gently. "Oh," he whispered, pulling his finger out and kissing my lips. I tried again to keep my mouth closed, but this time, he forced his tongue past my teeth, pressing it against mine. He moved closer to me, reaching his hands underneath my black cropped t-shirt, grabbing greedily at my breasts. 

"Kal, please, that hurts," I said turning my face away from him.

He pretended like he didn't hear me, continuing to grope me. "Damn, I love that you don't wear a bra. When are you going to let me fuck you?"

He asked me this question frequently and every time I didn't give an answer. He would kiss me, touch me, and whenever he did, I would hear my father's warning in the back of my head. There was something I didn't like about the way he put his hands on me, like he had the right to. There was a part of me that felt guilty about not letting him get further, but something wasn't right. I had hoped that he was willing to wait until I was ready; we'd known each other for such a short amount of time. And I truly believed that deep down, Kal had a good heart and he would give me the space that I needed.

I pulled a pickle out of the jar and he pulled his hands out of my shirt. I shrugged in answer to his crude question, biting off half a pickle with a loud crunch. "You're such a tease," he said, backing away from me.

The truth was, I had never let anyone touch me the way I let him. Since my mother left, I had to take care of my father on my own, cooking and cleaning, and never really had time for a boyfriend. When I moved to Gotham, I decided that I wasn't going to let any opportunities pass me by, especially one as beautiful as Kal. He didn't know that I was a virgin and I didn't know how to tell him. He seemed to be much more experienced than I was and he seemed to have certain expectations. I didn't know what to say.

He slipped his phone out of his back pocket, scrolling through his text messages. "Oh shit," he muttered. "Conner Is coming over. He wants to play video games."

I sighed. "What about dinner?" I whined, replacing both the pickle jar and the peanut butter to their original places.

"You can figure that out on your own, can't you?" he said, approaching me again, invading my personal space.

I slid down off the counter, wrapping my arms around his waist. "I want to spend time with you."

He kissed me, softly this time. "Baby, we spend every day together. I need some time to hang out with my friends, is that okay? You need to learn to entertain yourself. Here," he reached for his wallet, pulling out a one hundred dollar bill and waving it in front of my face. "Go buy something sexy to wear for when Conner leaves." I snatched the bill from him, and he pecked my lips. "You know I love you right?"

I smiled at him, unable to say it back.

\---

I walked down the street, past the pretty little lingerie shops, almost gagging as I peeked through their windows. I had never been the type of girl to dress for a man in any situation, especially when he requested it of me. Instead, I walked the couple of blocks to the nearest bookstore, a certain relief washing over me as the bell on the door tinkled as I entered. 

Since I was a child, I loved the feeling of being transported into a different dimension when going to bookstores. Being surrounded by different worlds, languages, and stories made everything going on in my life seem less significant.

I walked down the aisles, running my fingers over the spines of the familiar titles that I loved. Even if I wasn't going to buy any of them, I felt drawn to them. But today, I had a hundred dollars to spend and I planned on using every dime. 

I stopped at the end of a row, taking down one of my favorite poetry books. I flipped to the familiar page and read:

_just another day,_

_walking the sidewalk,_

_the world slanting through_

_your brain—_

_a white shot of_

_light._

_being alone, you decided, was a_

_magnificent_

_miracle._

_nothing else made any_

_sense at_

_all._

The sound of a stack of books falling with a loud thud on the floor broke my concentration and I looked around me. At the other end of the aisle stood a tall boy, young with caramel skin and dark hair, his eyes wide and his lashes long and curved. I had seen him before, in a photograph. One of _my_ photographs.


	5. Damian

"Shit," I muttered, stepping around the stack of books I'd tripped over. So much for being stealthy. 

I'd never been in this bookstore before, but I needed a gift to bring to Rachel's birthday dinner and I had no idea what to give her. Victor, being the good friend that he is, suggested that I find a book she would like, about the occult or tarot or something that I had no interest in. He decided to walk with me, since it was such a short distance from our apartment complex, and almost as soon as we'd gotten there, Victor saw her, the girl who had been with Kal, standing in the poetry section. 

"Don't look now," he whispered, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder. "Kal's girl is in the poetry section."

I craned my neck around him, trying to get a better look, my heart fluttering. "Where?" I asked, loudly. 

"Shh," he hushed. "You are not smooth at all, dude. How do you get any girls?"

"Fuck you," I whispered, smiling. 

And he was right. There she was, standing alone at the end of the aisle, a gentle smile on her face. She was wearing a cropped black t-shirt that hugged her frame, with an oversized plaid jacket over top. Her long hair fell to one side of her shoulders and her skin-tight black jeans made her long legs look even longer. She was an absolute angel.

I felt a surge of adrenaline and bravery, nodding to myself. "I'm going to go talk to her," I whispered, more to myself than to Victor, but he was already shaking his head.

"I don't think that's a good idea, Damian. First of all, she's got a man, and second, she doesn't look like she wants to be bothered. Let's just get this book for Rachel and get out of here."

I glanced in her direction again, where she stood unmoving. "I'm going to go talk to her," I said, stepping around Victor.

"Damian, wait-"

I turned around to wave Victor off, crashing right into a stack of unshelled books. I stumbled, trying to keep my balance, stepping on pages and creasing covers. I'd hoped they wouldn't make me pay for the books I'd damaged. When I finally got control of my body, I looked up at her and she was smirking. 

"Are you okay?" she asked, looking me up and down. I noticed a slight accent in her voice, but I couldn't place it. 

"You're in Miss Isley's class, botany, right?" I asked, my heart thudding in my chest. Why was I so nervous? I'd talked to a million beautiful girls in my life, what made this any different. 

She closed the book she was holding and placed it back on the shelf. "I was hoping she would let me pick up her class, but she said it was too late in the semester and I'd have to wait." She spoke as if she were talking to a reporter who was trying to dig up dirt on her personal life. Which I guess, I kind of was. 

"You, um," I stammered, keeping a safe distance between us so she wouldn't feel like I was hitting on her too hard. "I think you took my picture earlier today?"

She blew a short burst of air through her nose, smirking. "You seem like the kind of guy I shouldn't be saying this to, but you have a very good face for photography."

I raised my eyebrows. "You're very beautiful yourself, Miss..."

She smiled wider, shaking her head. "Anders. I'm Kory Anders."

"You're not from here, are you Kory Anders."

She turned to face me, leaning a shoulder against the shelf of books. "Not this particular bookstore, no. I prefer the ones where they don't leave their books all over the floor for someone to come marching over."

I chuckled. "That's funny, because I pictured you more in the kind of bookstore where the stacks of books reach the ceiling. You know, the kind that have that old musty smell where you can just get lost for hours."

She squinted her eyes at me, slipping her hands into her jacket pockets. "What did you say your name was?"

"Sorry to interrupt, but we are actually late for a dinner party," Victor announced from behind me, sliding both hands over my shoulders. "Shall we?" He pushed me forward, forcing me toward the door.

"Dude, are you serious?" I asked and I heard Kory laugh behind me. I waved over my shoulder. "It was nice meeting you."

She pressed her lips together in a tight smile waving her fingers back at me. "You, too."

\---

"You are the worst friend ever," I scolded Victor as we walked down the street toward the Chinese restaurant we always went to for celebrations of any kind. It had become a tradition for our circle of friends to meet up at this spot, not only because the food was so cheap, but it was the best Chinese food in Gotham City. Even Logan, the group's vegan and animal rights activists, enjoyed the atmosphere of the place, even if he only ended up eating piles of their fried rice. 

"Look, I just saved you from getting yourself into a whole lot of trouble," he responded, taking a cigarette out of a packet and lighting it. He handed one to me without asking if I wanted one and cupped his hand around the end of it, lighting mine, too. I inhaled deeply, feeling a shiver run down my spine as I realized the wind had picked up while we were in the bookstore. "She may be beautiful, but she is not worth the shit Kal will give you if he finds out you were talking to his girl."

"Fuck Kal, why does he get to have everything he wants?" I complained, even though I knew Victor was on my side.

"Fuck if I know," Victor mumbled, coming to a stop outside the restaurant to finish his cigarette. I stood next to him, my back against the wind.

"How long do you think they've been together?" I asked, knowing how obsessed I was acting. I couldn't help it, she was in my head now. This was the third time is bumped into her and I didn't take that as coincidence. 

"Damian, trust me, you've got to let this go."

Wallace came up behind me, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder. "Hello, boys," he greeted us, planting a loud kiss on my cheek. "Why are we standing outside in this frigid weather?"

"Where are Logan and Rachel?" I asked, stubbing out my cigarette on the pavement. 

"They're already inside," he answered, peering through the window past the neon "Open" sign. 

He held the door and we entered, quickly finding Rachel at a table in the back, waving to us over the other diners. She stood up, hugging each of us before we sat down and I handed her the bag from the bookstore. "This is from Victor and me," I said, as she yanked the book out, her mouth hanging open. "Victor picked it out."

"You guys, I told you no gifts! But thank you, this is perfect," she squealed, hugging me one more time. 

All five of us sat and ate, laughing and telling stories, first about our favorite memories of Rachel (mine being the time she attempted to cast a spell on me for not kissing her during a game of soon the bottle our freshman year at GCU) and then our favorite memories about each other in general. 

"You guys are lucky you didn't know Damian in high school," Victor said loudly after we'd finished eating. All of us except for Logan, who was digging into his third plate of rice and vegetables. "This dude couldn't walk through his own front door, his head was so big."

I shook my head at him, sticking up my middle finger across the table. "Well he sure has matured into a fine gentleman," Rachel said, mussing my hair and immediately smoothing it back out. I took her hand and kissed her knuckles winking. Since I met her our first year of college, I knew Rachel had a crush on me. In the beginning, she reacted to her feelings by lashing out at me, as if it were my fault that she was attracted to me. I had politely turned her down a couple of times and we'd grown close as friends. But there was still a little part of her that felt something for me and I knew that if I showed her any amount of affection, she'd get flustered. I watched her cheeks bloom in a subtle blush as my lips met her skin.

"I don't know that I'd call him a gentleman," Victor said, taking Wallace's hand. "You should have heard the nasty things he was saying to the blonde who stayed over a couple nights ago."

Everyone at the table _oohed_ at this tiny, salacious detail of my personal life. I never discussed any of my conquests with my friends other than Victor, but this felt somewhat justified. I knew that when the blonde girl stayed over, we hadn't been exactly quiet that night, but I wasn't going to give them the details they would have hoped for. "And what about you, Wallace, would you call Victor a gentleman?" I asked, tuning the attention to my best friend. Victor winked at me, acknowledging my deflection. 

Wallace took Victor's chin in his hand. "He is the most wonderful man anyone could ask for," he said, planting a kiss on Victor's lips. 

We all applauded loudly, getting looks from diners at the surrounding tables, which only made Wallace's display more obnoxious. While I watched my best friend make out with the love of his life, my thoughts drifted again to Kory. It had been a long time since I'd thought about a girl this much, especially since Donna had left me. It was small, but there was a glimmer of hope somewhere deep inside me that I'd run into Kory again sooner than later.


	6. Damian

I stared up at the wall of faces staring back at me, some glittering gold, others pointy and dark, and even more covered in blood with gashes across their cheeks, their skin hanging like melted wax. The faces stretched as high as the ceiling all the way down to the floor, where their jowls dusted the linoleum. "This is a waste of time," I muttered to myself.

Rachel had invited us to a Halloween party that was to be held at the student art gallery on campus. The event was being put on by the student group known as SPI: Student Paranormal Investigators, which Rachel had inevitably joined and swiftly became the president of three years ago. They always threw a Halloween bash, which had started out small and gradually became more successful each year. I had never subjected myself to Halloween parties, or any parties on campus for that matter, let alone dressing up for one. The whole idea made me roll my eyes, but Rachel had practically begged. I couldn't say no.

She had promised to help me find a costume, one that wasn't too elaborate or flashy. "I basically just want to dress as myself and go as...me," I had explained when she asked what kind of costume I preferred.

She had her arms crossed over her chest. "Well you sure are a fucking character."

We had found a time in between our classes when we could both meet and make a quick trip downtown to find something suitable to wear. It was just her and I and I knew that she was happy to be able to spend some time with me alone. To be fair, she was the only female friend I had apart from my family, and it was nice to have her around to break up the daily joking and bantering that usually occurred with the guys.

She stood close to me now, her head tilted to the side, studying the wall of masks. "Hmm," she hummed, tapping a finger against her lips. "What about that one?" She pointed to a hockey mask with three red stripes.

I looked at her incredulously. "You're kidding, right?"

"What, it's simple, it's recognizable, you don't have to wear anything weird for people to get it. Come on, it could be cool!" 

"Honestly, I was just hoping that agreeing to go to this party would be good enough for you," I said, shoving her shoulder playfully.

She fell dramatically away from me, grabbing my arm to stop herself from toppling over. "Damian, I am the president of SPI. If you show up without a costume, I have failed and all of my minions will know."

I raised my eyebrows. "You have minions?"

"They do whatever I say."

"You're scary."

She looked up at me from under her eyelashes. "You have no idea."

Actually, I kind of had an idea. After Rachel had found out that Donna had left me, she had reacted the exact opposite of how I would have expected. I thought that she would have attempted to make a move on me, like several other girls had when they found out I was single, but instead she had offered to hex Donna and all of her descendants. She had pulled out a voodoo doll and everything. That was the moment I knew I could trust her forever.

"Okay, what about this?" She held up a pair of glasses with a mustache and a nose attached. She put the glasses on, crossing her eyes.

"Definitely not."

Her shoulders sagged, defeated. "You're not even trying. This is important to me."

I sighed, scanning the wall again. "Look, I'll wear this." I snagged a plain black mask from a hook and slid the rubberband around my head. It was small, only covering the area around my eyes.

I turned to face her and she pulled her eyebrows together, confused. "What are you supposed to be?"

"I don't fucking know, whatever you want me to be."

She turned on her heel, marching down one of the aisles, returning with a plastic bag with a black cape inside. "Only if you wear this with it."

I sighed again, taking the cape from her, and she clapped her hands excitedly. "You're lucky I love you," I told her, slipping my arm around her shoulder.

\---

"Dude, what the hell are you supposed to be?"

Victor stood in front of the bathroom mirror applying the final touches to his makeup, which looked absolutely incredible. He had settled on dressing up as a robot of sorts, painting half of his face silver and covering his eye with an animatronic replacement he had made in class that day. Obviously, it wasn't real and he couldn't see through it, but he had designed it to move and light up, which was impressive to me. The rest of his costume was built out of cardboard and tape, but he had managed to display his true artistic talents, standing before me as a real human cyborg.

I slipped on a pair of black fingerless gloves and dropped my phone into my back pocket. I held my palms up, gesturing as if it were obvious what I was supposed to be, even though I still hadn't come up with a good answer. I put on my mask and my boots, which I had paired with black pants and a black button down shirt, tying the cape around my shoulders. I may not have known what the fucking costume was, but the cape actually made me feel pretty cool.

By the time we had picked up Logan and Wallace, dressed as climate change and a lightning bolt respectively, the party had already started. We made our way across the dark campus, Wallace and Logan complimenting Vic on his fantastic makeup skills and simultaneously asking what I was supposed to be. I whipped my cape around myself, holding it up to cover my face. "Maybe I'm a bat," I said dramatically and they all cackled at me.

We heard music playing as we neared the gallery, seeing the few guests that had already arrived through the floor-to-ceiling windows, spilling dim light onto the concrete. I had to admit, I felt a rush of excitement that I hadn't felt since I was a kid. My father did not allow me to dress up for Halloween, citing it as a silly and childish tradition, but my mother had spent a lot of time and money to make sure I experienced a traditional holiday. She would plan my costumes early, calling me from overseas to get ideas from me, and when I came to visit over the summer, she would lead me to every door in her building to trick or treat. I had always enjoyed it, but it was never the same as Halloween in Gotham, and she knew it. It was probably why I didn't care for dressing up now.

Rachel gasped when she saw us, tears filling her eyes. "You all look so wonderful!" she complimented us. She pointed directly at me, winking, and I bowed, sweeping my arm in front of me. She laughed. "Okay, you guys need to try this punch. It's my own recipe and you'll have to let me know if it's too strong."

She filled up four plastic cups of red liquid and we all took a sip, Logan exhaling loudly, pounding a fist on his chest. I felt the liquor slide down my throat and through my chest, all the way to my stomach, burning. "Wow, that's really strong," I choked out.

"Oh god, I fucked it up," she said, her eyes wide.

"No, no, it's fine, it's good," we all assured her, not wanting her to stress about any aspect of the party. She had already put so much work into planning it and it turned out amazing.

Her expression relaxed, relieved. "Okay, just so you know, we're doing the costume contest at midnight, so don't leave before then."

Vic gave her a thumbs up and she scampered off to take care of more business. "You want mine?" he asked me, shoving his cup toward me.

"Man, I think I'm already drunk," I replied, taking it anyway.

I stood against the wall as the other guys wandered over to the snack table, which was piled high with food. Rachel knew that the best way to get college kids to participate in any event was to provide free food. I watched more and more people file in, the space slowly filling with vampires and werewolves and even a banana. There were witches and nurses and every Halloween cliche I could have imagined. I sipped one of the drinks in my hand, drifting deeper into the gallery, looking for the first time at the art that surrounded me. There were pieces from all skill levels and all mediums. There was a wire sculpture hanging from the ceiling like a spider, rotating ever so slightly above me. There were about six or seven charcoal drawings of the same nude model, lumpy with rolls of skin, created from every angle. Some were better than others, but they all impressed me. 

I stopped in front of a black and white photograph, the size of a standard sheet of paper, captivated by the subject. It was a girl, her head resting on her arm as she leaned against the arm of a chair, the walls around her white, the wooden floors reflecting the sunlight that poured over her from the window behind her. Through the window, there were buildings, tops of houses and telephone wires, a cat seated on the windowsill, looking down at the world below. The girl had her eyes closed and her lips were shaped into a smile of contentment. One leg was tucked under the other, the leg on top stretching out into the foreground, long and lean. She wore a black camisole and black underwear, standing out against the light colored fabric of the chair. I could tell by the slant of the light that it was taken in the afternoon, just before the sun set all the way. I glanced at the small white card next to the photo. It read _Last Year at Home, Kory Anders_. I stepped closer, wanting to see more of her face, when I heard my name.

"Damian!" Vic called from near the front of the gallery. "Rachel set up and Xbox, we're going to play. You in?"

I nodded, holding up a finger, when I noticed a mass of red hair enter the room. 

"Oh shit," I muttered, frozen where I stood as Miss Isley stole the air from the room. She was dressed in all green, either as a mermaid or vegetation of some kind, and she was headed my way. I hadn't spoken to her since I had her sign my form giving me permission to drop her class. She had been reluctant, but finally gave in. She was the last person I wanted to see tonight.

I tried to hunch myself to the average height of those around me, trying not to stick out too much, weaving around the bumblebees and clowns and whatever the hell else people decided to dress up as. More than once, I saw a flash of green from the corner of my eye, but I couldn't be sure if it was her in the dim lighting. I made it safely to the door, stepping into the hallway and glancing around. I had to find somewhere to hide until she was gone. 

I noticed a door across the hall, the nameplate on the wall next to it reading "utilities". I tried the handle, expecting it to be locked, and it swung open. I stepped carefully inside, realizing I was still holding two cups of punch, and closed the door behind me. I set the cups down on the floor in front of the door, the sliver of light from under the crack of the door my only point of reference for which direction I was facing. I swung my arms in the black space in front of me, feeling for a lightbulb string, but knocking into whatever was on the shelf instead. I snatched it at last, yanking on the light and straightening up the bottles of cleaning fluid I'd tipped over. "Fuck, what am I going to do?" I whispered to myself. I knew I couldn't leave the party; it was too important to Rachel. But if I texted her and let her know the situation, would she let me off the hook?

I pulled out my phone, scrolling through my messages, debating whether or not to let Rachel know I was leaving, when I heard footsteps outside the door. I was frozen again, my head bent over my phone, my eyes locked onto the handle of the door. It turned, swinging open, and an alien jumped back in surprise.

"Oh my gosh!" she exclaimed, a hand flying up to her throat. Her chest heaved and she squinted her eyes. "You," she said, smiling.

The alien was painted orange from head to toe, her hair twisted into loose curls that hung around her shoulders, a purple headdress adorning her forehead. She had on a matching purple dress and thigh high white boots and it was the first time I had seen her since almost literally bumping into her at the bookstore last week. "Kory," I said, relieved. "I thought you were someone else."

"I'm...what are you doing in the closet?"

I looked around me, like I wasn't sure how I'd gotten there. "This is going to sound weird, but I'm hiding from someone."

She looked over her shoulder, toward the noise of the party. "Are they coming after you?"

I felt my eyes widen. "God, I hope not."

She cleared her throat, making to move past me. "I was just asked to get some more paper towels." She paused, looking me up and down. "What are you?"

I laughed, sticking out my hand for her to shake. "I'm Damian...al Ghul." It was the first time in a long time I had used my mother's name instead of my father's. Kal flashed through my mind with Vic's warning about how much he hated me, probably because I was a Wayne. I was hoping my alias would protect me from Kal finding out that I'd run into his girl twice now. He might think it was suspicious.

Kory took my hand, resting her palm against mine. "Nice to meet you, Damian al Ghul," she said, eyeing me. I couldn't help but feel like she was suspicious of me for some reason, too.

"You never told me where you're from," I said, not releasing her hand, instead, relishing in the electricity that pulsed between her skin and mine. 

A look of self-consciousness crossed flashed across her face. "My accent, is it that noticeable?" she asked, her fingertips covering her mouth, as if that would make her accent any less apparent.

"No," I stuttered, "it's not...I just...I'm curious. Most people I know around here are from Gotham."

She gave me the same look she had at the bookstore: like she was sizing me up, trying to decide how much she was willing to tell me. "Sweden," she finally answered, taking her hand back from me. "This is my first time out of my country."

I grabbed the cups from off the floor, offering one to her. Her eyes flicked from my face to the cup and back again. "I should really be getting back to the party," she said, looking over her shoulder again. "My boyfriend is probably looking for me." Ah, an age old tactic, I thought. She had found a smooth way to let me know that she was taking and that I needed to quit flirting with her. However, she didn't know how persistent I could be.

"How do you like Gotham?" I asked, ignoring her reference to Kal. 

She bit her lower lip, sending a tingle down my spine. She stepped closer to me, taking the cup and closing the closet door behind her. "It's loud. And dirty. And crowded."

I took a drink from my cup. "Damn, okay. So you don't like it, that's cool," I said sarcastically, watching as she tasted her punch. Her face screwed up and she stared into her cup like it was full of motor oil.

"God, what is this stuff?"

I smiled, taking a large gulp from my own. "It's disgusting, isn't it?" She giggled, revealing a set of white teeth. "So what are you studying? Not botany, right?" I asked, referencing our earlier conversation at the bookstore.

She sipped more punch. "No, not botany. I'm a photographer."

I nodded. "I saw your photo in the gallery. It's really serene."

She tilted her head, the tiniest smile on her lips. "Thank you. I took it myself before I left home." Her eyes darkened a little, as she traveled back in time to her homeland, before Gotham, before Kal. Before me.

"And you miss it?" I asked.

She nodded. "Yes, of course. I don't have many friends here yet, other than my boyfriend." There it was again. Boyfriend.

"Well, hey," I said, "I could be your friend."

"Could you?" she asked, one eyebrow raised in skepticism. 

I stuck my lower lip out, nodding enthusiastically. "I think so. You like taking pictures of me, right?"

She laughed. "Don't make that into something it's not," she said, pointing a finger at me.

I widened my eyes. "You're the one who told me I had a nice face."

"I knew I would regret saying that," she said, rubbing her forehead.

"All I'm saying is, if you need a subject for your photos, give me a call. I'm free whenever you'd like."

"And how am I going to call you?"

I held out my hand. "Give me your phone."

She hesitated, but she was still smiling. "I can't believe I'm doing this," she said, unzipping her boot part way and slipping out her phone. She held it out to me, pulling it back when I reached for it. "This is strictly business, you know that, right?"

I rolled my eyes. "Give me the damn phone."


	7. Kory

I had texted him to meet me at seven, a time I thought he would be able to meet without any excuses. It was after classes were out for the day, for the most part anyway, and it was just after dinner. He wouldn't have any reason not to meet, but I was interested to see if he had any crazy excuses to bail. 

The sky was gray and overcast, something I hadn't thought about checking before I texted Damian. After meeting him in the closet, I had tried to convince myself that I didn't want anything to do with him, there was no reason for me to spend any time with the kid outside of the continuous run-ins we kept experiencing. He seemed like trouble, the way he looked at me like I was something shiny that he wanted to pick up and turn over and study and scrutinize. I'd been in these kinds of positions before, not excluding the relationship I was currently in. Kal had the same look on his face when we met. I had never seen myself as beautiful or exceptionally attractive. There were days that I didn't brush my hair or put on any makeup, but I still got those looks from people I passed on the street and from my fellow students in class. Eyes on me, watching me. It had happened to me since I was a child. I didn't like it necessarily, but it had gotten to be a bore to me. Surely there were more interesting things to look at. 

I crossed campus, pulling my jacket tight around myself, hoisting my camera bag higher up my shoulder. I hadn't brought all of my gear with me, just my camera and a couple of lenses. At the beginning of the semester, the professor had assigned us a project meant to span the semester. We were to complete our daily assignments and in our free time, put together a portfolio of twelve photos depicting a theme of our choice. I had chosen shadows as my theme, hoping I could get some good shots in this gloomy city, but I had been focusing mostly on the architecture of the buildings around Gotham. I would head into the bustling loudness at the end of the day when the sun began to set, scouting for patterns between the skyscrapers, the passing shadows of the city people. I had taken some pretty good photos, but nothing that I consider particularly presentable. 

There was something dark about Damian that I had felt from the moment I met him. He was dark and mysterious, like there were things he was hiding deep inside of himself, sort of like he had shadows within himself. It intrigued me, and though I did have a small worry that Kal wouldn't approve of me spending my night with another man, there was a bigger part of me that needed something a little dangerous in my life. The thought of spending time with Damian made my heart flutter with excitement.

I rounded the corner of the science hall, putting my head down against the wind, marching forward. I hadn't expected it to be so cold, either, even though it was almost the end of October. If it had been anyone other than Damian, I may have cancelled on them myself. But the draw was too strong. He was standing against the building, one leg bent, his foot pressed against the bricks, a cigarette in his hand. He had on a black leather jacket that I almost had to laugh at. Was he trying to be a stereotypical bad boy? All black clothing, beat up black boots, the shoe strings untied. I wondered if he ever tripped over them and smiled to myself. 

He exhaled a cloud of smoke and smiled when he saw me, flicking ash off the end of his cigarette. "Hey," he mumbled, his eyes slightly squinted in the wind. 

I held my camera up to my eye and pressed the shutter release. "Hey," I said back. 

"What the fuck, I wasn't ready," he said, holding a hand over the end of my lens. 

"You looked ready to me," I said, pulling my camera away from him. "You shouldn't smoke." 

"Are you telling me what to do, Miss Anders?"

I cleared my throat. "Stand back against the wall. Don't look at me. Look over there, at that tree." He didn't flinch, just looking at me. "Now I'm telling you what to do, just do it."

He smirked. "You're the boss."

He raised the cigarette to his lips again, inhaling, his brow creasing. He looked young, too young to be smoking. I wondered where he picked up the habit, how long he had been doing it. It was hard to admit, but I kind of liked the smell of burning tobacco. No one in my life had ever been a smoker, but now, there was something intriguing about it. I snapped a couple more photos of him when it started to rain.

"You picked a good day for this," he said taking my hand and leading me to the space under an overhang at the back of the building. He shook the droplets off his jacket, shaking it off like a puppy. 

"Yah, sorry, I guess I got a little excited and forgot to check the weather." He raised his eyebrows. "I mean-" I stuttered trying to back track.

"No it's okay, I was excited, too. My roommate is busy tonight so I didn't have anything else to do." 

"So what would you usually be doing on a night off?" I asked, adjusting the settings on my camera.

He shrugged, dragging a heel against the pavement. "Usually whatever my friends are doing. My roommate's boyfriend is an athlete so sometimes we watch him practice. He's actually really good and-" He stopped himself, suddenly aware that I was taking his photo. 

I waved my hand at him. "No, keep going. You're doing fine."

He looked across the street at a group of people walking past, watching us. "Sorry, it's just kind of weird with people watching."

I tilted my head to the side. "You're saying you don't like the attention?"

"I don't...I mean...is there anywhere else we could go?"

I glanced at my watch and at the sky, racking my brain for a good place to take photos in these conditions. "Where's your favorite place to go on campus?" I asked. 

He sighed, chewing the inside of his lip. After a moment, he said, "I know somewhere we could go. Come with me." He held open the door for me, letting me inside the science building.

One of the best things about Gotham City University was the layout of the campus. When the school was built, one of the architects had the forethought to plan for the ever changing and unpredictable weather that came with living near the ocean and built all of the buildings on campus to be connected by long halls between the spaces that would normally be open. Because of that, it was possible to walk through every building on campus without actually having to walk outside. 

I stood inside the doorway, waiting for Damian to follow behind me. He ran a hand over his wet hair, which had hints of gold and red in the florescent light. I looked away before he could see me staring. He nodded for me to follow him. "So what do you usually do on your nights off? Take pictures of strangers in the rain?" he asked smiling down at me.

I could feel my face getting warm, the blush creeping over my cheeks. "First of all, we're not strangers."

"I guess you're right about that," he said, sliding his hands into the pockets of his jacket. He sniffed.

"I'll give you another guess," I said, trying to imitate his effortless confidence. He was silky and smooth and it seemed like there was nothing that could slip him up. I wanted to emulate that. I wanted him to believe that I was confident, too.

"Hmm," he hummed, tilting his head back. "You knit and drink wine and watch game shows on tv."

I gasped in feigned offense. "How old do you think I am?"

"No way, I'm not even touching that. If I guess wrong, you'll get mad. If I guess right, you'll get mad."

"I swear, I won't. Just guess," I encouraged, genuinely curious what his guess would be.

He stopped, and I stopped next to him. He looked me in the eye, his gaze traveling quickly down the front of me, circling me, pausing behind me, before standing in front of me once again. I was suddenly very self-conscious. "I think you're....at least thirty-five."

I let my jaw hang open. "How dare you."

He pointed stinger at me. "You promised you wouldn't get mad."

I smiled, squinting at him. "Well, you're way off," I said sauntering forward.

"Wait, just tell me, I want to know." He jogged to catch up to me.

"Why does it matter?"

"It doesn't. But now I need to know."

"People don't usually tell you no, do they?" I asked and his smile widened.

"Never."

My heart skipped a beat. "I'm eighteen," I answered quietly. I had a feeling that he was older than me, but I wasn't sure by how much.

"Eighteen," he repeated, pulling inside of himself. He was quiet.

"What's wrong?" I asked, after he had been quiet a moment. 

"Nothing, you just seem like you've experienced so much already."

I forced a laugh. "You barely know anything about me."

"Kory Anders, eighteen, photographer. You're from Sweden. You like to read." And that was basically everything he knew about me. My mind involuntarily traveled to Kal. I couldn't help but wonder how many details he knew about me. 

"And I don't knit," I said, pulling myself back to the moment.

He smiled. "I was kidding."

We walked for awhile in silence, passing dark, empty classrooms, which made me feel like we were doing something we shouldn't be. Damian was walking close to me, my camera bag brushing his arm every few steps, but he didn't move further away. I glanced up at our reflection in the dark hallway windows, noticing just how tall he was. I was tall myself, standing at least a few inches taller than other girls my age, but Damian was almost a head taller than me. He seemed so comfortable in his thin frame, like every step he took was deliberate and purposeful. I saw myself beside him, my legs too long, my hips slightly too wide, my breasts too small. When I was younger, I had practiced standing tall, walking more confidently and I wondered if Damian had achieved his confidence that way. 

"So where did you say we're going?" I asked after we had been walking for awhile. We'd passed through a breezeway into the English building, the door shutting loudly behind us.

"Can I be honest with you?" he asked.

"I hope so," I replied.

He chuckled. "I have no idea where we're going."

I wasn't upset about it. Something about being near him was comforting, like conversation wasn't even necessary.

"Well, I don't mind just walking," I replied, feeling shy. Why was I so bad at making friends? "Tell me about your roommate," I said, bringing up a new topic to pass the time.

"Victor? He's the best. He's like a brother to me."

"So you've known him a long time?"

He nodded. "He's seen the best days and the worst days of my life. I can't imagine my life without him."

"Maybe I could meet him someday."

"You'd love him," he responded immediately. "Everybody loves him." Damian pulled open the next door, letting me into the next hallway leading to the art department. The door clicked shut and there was only the sound of our quiet footsteps. "Do you have a roommate?" he asked, like he already knew the answer. His voice was cold.

"I live with my boyfriend, Kal. He's a swimmer, the captain, actually."

"And how is that going?" There was no sincerity in his question and I began to feel disconnected to the topic.

"Things are fine. He's a hard worker, he really has a direction in life." I was reaching, but I felt like maybe Damian wasn't sure what he was doing with his life, and I wanted to poke him with my response. 

"That's great to hear. You deserve someone who can take care of you." 

"Um, yah, actually I think I should probably head back home," I said, stopping in the middle of the hallway. Damian took a few more steps, stopping in front of me.

"What's wrong? Did I say something to upset you?" His eyes had lost their warmth, along with his voice. He held his hands out to the side, still in his jacket pockets. 

"It's just getting late and I think maybe-"

"Please don't go," he said, his body relaxing a little. "Look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

Whatever feeling of openness and comfort I had been feeling was going away, closing up again. I'd been treated this way before, like I was only good enough until I wasn't and then I was just tossed aside. My mother had done this to my father and me. I had a pretty low tolerance when it came to being used. "I'm not upset," I insisted, even though I was. 

"You're lying," he smirked. "I know enough about women to know that they lie when they're upset."

"You know a lot about women then?" I asked, insinuatingly. "I doubt you know about women like me."

He let out a laugh like a bark. "Is that what you think of me?" 

"I know enough about men to know that they never answer direct questions," I quipped back.

He smiled again, some warmth returning. He took a step closer to me. "Look, if you want to, we could go back to my apartment."

I snorted, imagining Kal's reaction to finding out I had spent the evening at another guy's house. That was not a situation I was going to put myself in. I glanced at my watch again and an idea popped into my mind. I reached into my bag, pulling out the ring of keys that I'd grabbed off the counter before I left the apartment. Kal had mistakenly taken mine when he left to hang out with his friends and left his own keys behind. I held them up to Damian, flashing a smile at him.

"What is that supposed to mean?" he asked, confused. 

"The pool closes at eight," I said, as if it were obvious. Damian shook his head, still not following. "I can get us in."


	8. Damian

"Are you sure you know what you're doing there?"

Her keys jingled in the lock of the door, but the door didn't budge. She looked at me, unamused over her shoulder, pulling the key out and trying a different one. "Believe it or not, I've actually opened tons of doors in my life."

"If you say so."

She shook the key in the lock and heard a click, this time giving me an I told you so look and pushing the door open, standing aside. "Well how about that," I said as I passed her, the sweet smell of her mingling with the strong chemical smell of the pool.

The air was humid, creating a film of moisture on my face, as we echoed across the tiled floor. The far wall was all windows, looking out over the rest of the campus, and allowing the moonlight to stream through. The only other light came from inside the pool, small lights towards the bottom of the deep end, illuminating the blue-green water. I took off my jacket and heard her camera click. I stepped on the heels of my boots, sliding them off, hearing more clicks. I raised an eyebrow at her. "Aren't you coming in?"

She raised her head from behind her camera, looking startled, as if she thought I didn't know she was there. "Oh no, I'm just taking the pictures."

I shook my head, smiling, grabbing the back of my shirt and pulling it over my head. The clicking stopped and I saw her staring at me before she quickly looked away. I'd had girls tell me that my only charm was my physique, but I never wanted to believe it was true. I stared at her as I unzipped my pants, stepping lightly out of them, feeling the warm air over my body. She made eye contact with me now. "Are you sure you don't want to come in?" She kept her eyes on mine as she shook her head and I dove in.

I hadn't gone swimming in years; I'd never really liked the water. My father had a pool at Wayne Manor that Victor and I had messed around in when we were kids, but my father had put an end to us playing, saying we could only use it if we were going to use it properly. That had dampened my interest in learning anymore about it. The warm water now felt good over my skin, stinging my eyes as I opened them. My lungs started to burn as I held my breathe for too long, not wanting to resurface from the peace I felt down here. Nothing and nobody but me. It was nice.

When my head broke the plane, Kory was situating herself on one of the plastic blue chairs next to the pool. She looked otherworldly, the lights from the pool casting a greenish tint over her skin, her long dark hair turning even darker. I treaded the water, watching her before she noticed me. "What?" 

"Nothing."

She tested her arms on her knees, leaning forward. "So I have a question for you." Her soft voice echoed slightly in the room. 

"Uh uh," I shook my head. "You don't get to ask any questions until you get in."

She clicked her tongue. "That's not fair."

I shrugged. "Those are the rules."

She sat unmoving, rolling the idea around in her head, before sighing and standing up. "Fine," she mumbled, unbuttoning her jeans. 

I swan on my back away from her, my eyes never leaving her body as she shimmied out of her pants and dropping her jacket next to mine. She walked to the edge of the pool, dipping a toe into the warm water. She hopped into the air, entering the water with little more than a splash, disappearing under the surface. I went under again, swimming over to her, keeping a distance from her, watching. She kept her eyes closed, floating like she was in outer space, her hair fanning out around her. She pumped her arms, sending herself back above the surface and I followed.

She wiped the water from her eyes and pushed her hair back over her head. "So what was your question?" I asked.

She kicked her legs, treading in front of me. "In the closet at the party. Who were you hiding from?"

I swam to the edge of the pool, resting my elbows on the cool tiles. I thought back to the night of my father's gala and what had happened in his office with Miss Isley. That wasn't something I was willing to talk about with her just yet. 

"What," she asked, swimming up next to me. "You don't have to answer any of my questions?" 

I looked at her and flashed a grin. "Aren't you supposed to be taking my picture or something?"

"Answer me," she said sternly. 

"Just someone I didn't want to see, alright? It's not a big deal."

She rolled her eyes, splashing backward, swimming away from me. "You're making it a big deal."

I swam back out, stopping next to her where she floated on her back. "So now you want to get to know me?" I asked, unsure if she could hear me.

Her eyes fluttered open. "You intrigue me," she said, flipping upright again. "I'm sure I'm not the first person to tell you that though." There were droplets of water on her eyelashes, like little stars. She watched me, gauging my reaction, trying to figure out if she was right. 

"People are interested in me, yes," I answered, watching her now. "I'm not very interested in them."

"How many people have you been interested in?" she asked, cautiously.

"Are you asking me about my past relationships?" I ran a hand through my hair, pushing the one stubborn piece of hair that always seemed to fall out of place.

"Yes, I am," she answered directly.

I thought for a moment about how I wanted to answer her. "I've spent time with a few people," I said, trying to be vague about the number of women I'd slept with. "But there was one who I spent a lot of years with."

"And what was she like?"

"She was...everything to me at the time. We were together for four years and then she decided she wanted something different."

Kory had an expression of hurt on her face, a million different emotions flashing through her mind. "How long ago?" 

"It's been two years now."

She nodded. "And are you looking for something new now?"

I looked at her from under my eyelashes, frustrated that she didn't know how interested in her I was. "I've had my eye on someone." I swam closer to her; she moved away at first, but stopped herself. 

"Damian, what are you doing?" Her voice was quiet again. I slid one hand around her waist, pulling her close to me, the smell of her sweet perfume wafting over me. "Damian, I can't," she was whispering now, but she didn't try to move away from me. I watched her lips move, soft and shining with water, pink and warm. I touched her with my thumb, running it over her lower lip and her breath hitched in her throat.

I gently pressed my lips to hers, leaving my eyes open. She had one hand on my shoulder and one on my chin, her movements slightly stiff like she was still trying to decide if she wanted this to happen. Her eyes fluttered closed so I closed mine, too, focusing on the feeling of her moth moving against mine. I brushed my tongue along her teeth, tasting a hint of chlorine, and she opened her mouth, allowing me inside. Her breathing was heavy and the blood in my own body started rushing. She pulled away, holding me at a distance, searching my face for something.

"We shouldn't do this," she said, catching her breath.

"Okay," I said, kissing her again, her fingers twining through my hair.

"I should go," she mumbled against my mouth.

"Okay," I said.

"No, really," she said, this time pushing away from me. "I should probably go." 

She swam to the edge of the pool, pushing herself up onto the edge, a whoosh of water following her out of the pool. She stood dripping, wringing her hair out, watching me. "Are you coming?" 

I followed her, dripping on the tiles next to her, shaking the water out of my own hair. I watched her grab a towel from a wire rack against the wall, rubbing it over her face before handing it to me. I took the towel from her, trying to keep the smirk off my face as I took in her figure. She had kept on her cropped black t-shirt, which clung now to her body, revealing her slim form. Her breasts were small, the cotton of her shirt glued to her skin, and I could see that she wasn't wearing a bra. When she moved her arms up to grab her hair and pull it into a ponytail, her belly was exposed, flat and smooth, my eyes traveling downward to her black underwear, which fit like a short pair of men's boxer briefs. Her legs went on forever. I held the towel over my waist, trying to hide the reaction she had given me.

"Are you okay?" she asked, handing me my clothes in a big ball of black.

"Uh, yah, I just need to sit down," I answered taking them from her.

I watched her slip hack into her jeans, fighting them up her thighs, sticky from the chemical water. I cleared my throat and stuck out my t-shirt to her. "Here, you can wear this."

She took the shirt from me, suspicion in her eyes. "Why?" she asked.

"So you have something dry to wear home," I replied, feeling brave enough to stand up and put my jeans back on. 

She still looked wary of me, but thanked me, turning so her back was facing me. She pulled her wet shirt off and quickly replaced it with mine, wringing the water out of hers. 

"Hey, listen," I said, zipping my pants up and slipping into my boots. "I hope I didn't cross any lines or anything."

She was stuffing her camera into her bag, pulling it up her shoulder and smiling at me. "No, it's fine. You're fine, don't worry about it."

I pushed my arms into my jacket, disliking the feeling of leather on my bare skin, but happy that I was able to provide her with dry clothes to wear. "If you ever want to, you know, take more pictures, let me know."

Her eyes were filled with wonder, like she was seeing me for the first time. She broke eye contact, looking at the floor. "I think it would be best if Kal didn't know about this," she said, and I could hear the slight worry in her voice that she was trying to hide. 

"Hey," I said as I stepped toward her, brushing a water droplet off her cheek. "I won't say anything if you won't."


	9. Damian

I had texted her every morning since the night of our swim, all of my messages going unanswered. At first, I thought that maybe I'd had the wrong number, but it was the same one I'd used to contact her before. She had to be upset about the kiss, that was it. Maybe Kal had found out about it, banned her from leaving his side. Knowing what little I did about him, it was entirely possible. 

I laid on the sofa in the bright living room of my apartment, trying to study for my journalism final. Every line I wrote went unfinished, my thoughts turning to Kory every other second. I stared at my phone on the coffee table, willing it to vibrate. 

"What's wrong with you, man?" Victor asked from the kitchen table. He was eating a bowl of cereal, a textbook covered in highlighter next to it. 

"What do you mean?" I asked, not looking up from my laptop. My response was short, which all but proved that there was something wrong. 

He turned his body away from the table, facing me. "Don't treat me like I'm fucking stupid. I know you. What's going on?"

I scoffed. "It's nothing. It's stupid." He tilted his head at me, waiting for me to spill. "You're going to hate me."

"No more than I already do, I'm sure," he joked.

I closed my laptop, leaning back into the lumpy cushions of the couch. I started at the popcorn ceiling, noticing a tiny crack running from the overhead light toward one of the windows. I wondered if maybe the whole ceiling would crack, crashing down on me and save me from my pining. I hated feeling this way. "It's a girl." 

"A girl?" he repeated, in a mocking sort of tone. "A girl has got you acting this way? This is new. Who is she?"

I folded my hands in my lap, still avoiding his gaze. "Oh shit, Day," he said. I could see him shaking his head out of the corner of my eye. "Do not fucking tell me it's Kal's girl. Man, what did I tell you about staying away from her? You know he will fuck you up if he knows that you guys are-"

"Nothing has happened yet," I cut him off, finally getting the courage up to make eye contact with him. I wasn't counting the kiss. I couldn't tell him about that because I knew it would make him even madder.

He snorted. "Nothing, huh?" He was right to not to trust me. My history made it easy to believe otherwise. "You're telling me that you haven't fucked her?"

"Of course not," I replied, offended, like it was blasphemous that he would think that of me.

He went back to his bowl of cereal. "Listen," he said around a mouthful of food, "I already gave you advice about this. There's nothing else for me to say."

I felt my heart sink slightly. If anyone could talk me through a tough situation, it was Victor. But if he didn't even believe that what I was doing was justified in the first place, he wasn't going to be a willing participant. "Please, Vic," I whined, resting my feet on the coffee table. "I don't know why I feel the way I do. It's not something that I can help. You know this isn't normal for me."

"No, it's not fucking normal," he chuckled.

"Well then tell me what to do."

He looked over at me again, taking in the pathetic sight of me. "I can't lie, it's a relief to see you actually interested in another woman. You're strung out over this, huh?"

"Fucking right."

"But you need to listen to me, and I mean really listen. You cannot be with her while she's with someone else. That will end badly for both of you."

I held my hands out, palms up. "So what are you saying?"

"You know what I'm saying. You're Damian goddamn Wayne. Show her why she'd be better off with you."

\---

I found her in the library, seated at a table against one of the big windows overlooking the parking lot below. I had been encouraged by Victor's words, formulating a plan to show her rather than tell her why her time would be better spent with me. 

I stood at the end of an aisle of books, watching her discreetly. The first snow had yet to fall in Gotham, but it was cold enough that she had a chunky gray scarf wrapped around her slender neck, her hair piled high on her head. She was wearing little makeup, a typical weekend look for girls around campus, but she made it look better than any other girl I'd seen. She had on a red jacket and black pants, her legs crossed at the ankles. Her ballet flats were hanging off the ends of her toes as she hunched over the book on the table in front of her. How she always managed to look like a fantasy was beyond me.

"I thought that was you," a voice whispered from behind me, startling me and making my whole body jump. "What are you doing in the library on a Saturday?"

It was the blonde girl I'd slept with, more than once apparently. I felt my nerves slowly settle back into place. "Oh, hey," I whispered back, wishing now that I'd gotten her name. I took a step back from her, trying to create distance between us. 

"Are you going to the Tau Kappa party tonight?" Her voice had drifted into a volume higher than a whisper, drawing looks from a couple other students near us. 

"Shh," I shushed her, holding a finger against her lips. She smiled and I cringed, yanking my hand back quickly. "Um, I actually think I'll be busy tonight," I said, wiping my nervous palms against my black jeans. I glanced over at Kory, her eyes still on her book.

"Cancel your plans and come. It would be really good to hang out again." She'd closed the gap between us, her hands resting on my chest. I sighed, trying to find an exit in my mind.

"Listen, it was really good to see you, but I'm actually late to meet someone." I had half expected her to be offended, but she just winked and smiled at me.

"Whatever you say, baby. Text me if you want to hang out." She wiggled her fingers at me, walking towards the elevator. 

Easier than I thought. 

I walked down the aisle to Kory, pulling out the chair opposite her, and sliding in carefully, not sure how she'd react. She turned the page in her book, not looking up. I cleared my throat. 

"So you're friends with Jayna?" she asked, her eyes glued to her book.

I sat awkwardly, not sure how to respond. "Who's Jayna?" 

"Of course you don't even know her name."

It clicked. The blonde girl. Her name was Jayna. I snapped my fingers. "Oh, yah. We've hung out a few times."

"What does that mean?"

"What does what mean?"

"Don't act stupid, Damian."

"I don't-"

She finally looked up at me, shooting daggers at me with her eyes. She was utterly unimpressed by me. "Okay, yes, we hooked up a couple of times," I whispered as quietly as I could. I glanced around to see if anyone was watching me, but I seemed to be in the clear. 

She was shaking her head. "You are so predictable."

Her words caused a flash of anger to rise in me before I knew it was happening. Predictable was never a word that was used to describe me. In fact, the reason I didn't get along with my own father was for my very unpredictability. The reason my ex-girlfriend had left me was because of my unpredictability. I felt my hand clench into fists. What did this girl know, this girl who had just met me, who didn't even know my real name. Did she not realize exactly how predictable it was that she was dating a star athlete, one who paid her no attention, but loved to have her around as arm candy? One who left her on her own to be potentially scooped up by a more suitable man and treated the way she would like to be treated? 

I breathed heavily, waiting for my anger and frustration to subside. "Let me prove you wrong," I whispered, leaning in toward her. "I can show you things you haven't seen before."

She stuck a small sheet of paper in her book, closing it. I glanced at the cover, an abstract picture of a hand veins of railway lines tracing over the top. "Haven't i made myself clear?" she asked, looking deep into my eyes. 

"You made yourself clear by kissing me last week," I retorted proudly.

"That was a mistake and I told you as much."

"Was it?" I asked, returning her intense gaze. "Because I think you're lying to yourself. I think we both know that we felt something that night. I think you felt something you haven't felt in a long time." Her mouth was hanging open, her eyes searching. "I think you want to experience something good, something...new."

She swallowed, breaking her gaze. "You don't know anything about-"

"I could. I want to. Let me." 

Her toes tapped rythmically against the leg of the table, causing it to shake. I was making her nervous. Good. She looked out the large window, but not at the view outside. She was weighing her options, maybe transported to a time that was a turning point for her, where a decision needed to be made to move forward, to progress toward something. I had a feeling that she was about to make the same decision now, at this fork in the road. At every fork so far, she had chosen me. I had hope that she would again.

"What do you want to show me?"


	10. Kory

Kal had an all day swim competition that I was supposed to attend, appear at his side, cheer him on. It was a four hour bus ride from Gotham and he wasn't going to return until late that Saturday evening, which I used as my excuse to get out of it.

We were lying in bed, his face pressed into my hair, his body molded to the back of mine. He was hard, I could feel it on my ass, but I ignored it, like I always did. "Are you sure you can't come?" he asked, wiggling closer to me.

"I just really think I should stay here and get some homework done. I have a lot of work to catch up on before Monday." He growled in frustration, taking my ear between his teeth. "Shouldn't you get ready?" I asked. I hated when he got aggressive. He bit me too hard, kissed me too hard, touched me too hard. Something about him, something about now, made me want to get as far from him as possible.

He finally rolled out of bed to take a shower and pack his things. His duffel bag sat open on the bed, his clothes folded neatly inside. I sat next to it, anxiously waiting for him to finish, to leave. He zipped the bag closed roughly, forcing the zipper around the teeth. I forced a smile up at him. "I still don't understand why you won't come with me." Of course he didn't. If there was anything going on that wasn't directly related to him, he saw it as irrelevant. 

I shrugged. "I'll probably just be in the dark room for most of the day. I may meet up with Zan for dinner." Zan was a fellow art student, twin brother to Jayna, who had run into Damian in the library. Zan was gay, therefore, Kal felt comfortable with me hanging out with him. His ignorance was astounding.

"Fine," Kal said, taking my face in his hands, leaning down to kiss me. He was gentle this time, which made my heart flutter. He confused me in the way he could be so rough and forceful, yet gentle and caring at other times. "But try not to have any fun without me."

I blinked innocently at him, trying to stop my heart from racing. I could feel my phone burning a hole in my back pocket, the unopened text from Damian waiting there like a lit fuse, burning down to the end and igniting the dynamite. I had to wait for Kal to leave before it exploded. "I miss you already," I said following him to the front door. He opened it, the cool November air rushing into the apartment along with the bright sunshine behind him. I wiggled my fingers at him as he walked away, the door shutting behind him. A wave of relief washed over me.

I hadn't been lying about having work to finish. I quickly got ready, brushing my hair and tying half of it up on my head, putting on a little makeup, and getting dressed. I stood in front of my closet, my phone displaying Damian's message, sent early this morning. _Meet me at the corner of 1st and Ave A. We're taking the train. 9pm._ The butterflies in my stomach went wild. Seeing Damian again excited me for reasons I couldn't explain. Maybe he had been right. Maybe it was something new, something different than what Kal and I had been doing. Maybe I did deserve to be treated differently and maybe that was something he could do. I brushed the hair from my face, trying to relax. I had a whole day to decide what to wear before I met with Damian this evening. I pushed both Kal and Damian from my mind, focusing on myself for the day.

\---

I spent the day in the dark room, exposing, dodging and burning, and developing all of my photos from the last week. I was happy with how they were turning out, spending more time on the photos I had taken of Damian than any of the others. He was ethereal in the pool, his body blending with the water and becoming one with the shadows. I pulled the photo from the dryer, placing it on top of the stack of other photos and closing the folder. I exhaled, remembering the feeling of his lips on mine, his eyes boring into mine. There had been such a deep feeling, like he was seeing into the darkest parts of me and he didn't care how dark it was. It was a feeling that I could be totally myself, unlike with Kal, who expected me to act a certain way, dress a certain way. 

I went home to the empty apartment, laying my backpack full of photos on the table. It was four o'clock. I had five hours to kill before meeting with Damian. I pulled out my phone and texted Zan, asking if he wanted to meet for dinner. That part of my story at least would be corroborated when Kal did return. Zan responded quickly, agreeing to meet at a cafe off campus at seven. That gave me three hours. I pulled my hair up and decided to make good use of the meantime, pulling out all of my cleaning supplies. When the kitchen was spotless, I moved to the living room, vacuuming and straightening my pile of books next to the couch. I made the bed and cleaned the bathroom, collapsing into a kitchen chair with a book two hours later. I laughed at myself, counting down the hours like a child waiting for Christmas day. I set an alarm on my phone for 6:30. When it finally went off, I realized I hadn't even turned the page in my book. 

I left campus, walking the short distance to the cafe, my dress billowing in the breeze. I had my hands in my jacket pockets, my headphones in, the butterflies in my stomach subsiding only slightly. The sun was already setting, burning orange ahead of me, reflecting off the windows of the skyscrapers around me. I glanced at my reflection as I waited at a crosswalk, happy with the outfit I chose and a little embarrassed that I even cared. I had always been complimented on my effortless style, when in reality, I had put a lot of thought into how I presented myself.

I stepped through the cafe door, inhaling the strong smell of coffee, and waving at Zan in the corner. He looked good, as always, his dark hair pushed back from his forehead, his green sweater offsetting his light eyes. He was single and I wasn't sure how.

We spent our time together catching each other up on our lives. He had pointed out how long it had been since we had hung out and I instantly felt bad. Kal had really been isolating me lately. I promised to keep it from happening again. It was nearly nine o'clock when I checked my phone. "Do you have somewhere to be?" he asked, leaning back against his chair. The sun had set long ago and the windows outside were inky black.

"Um, actually yes, I'm going into the city tonight." I pasted on my innocent smile again, hoping it came across as sincere.

He looked skeptical. "At this time of night?"

"There are some photos I'm hoping to get."

"That's vague," he said, crossing his arms. I knew it would be harder to fool Zan. But I would never give up the truth to him. If he found out who I was meeting, he'd report back to Kal and that would be disastrous.

I shrugged, laying on the nonchalance. "Okay, well be careful out there. A cute young thing like you out there in the dark is just bound to run into trouble."

"I'll be extra careful, I promise."

\---

I bounded down the steps, leading into the earth, the rush of subway air blowing my hair around my shoulders. My heart was thudding loudly in my chest, my boots stomping down the metal stairs. I could've squealed from excitement. I hadn't even asked Damian where he was taking me, which maybe seemed like an error after talking with Zan. What if Damian turned out to be a psycho? I knew in my heart that it wasn't the case, but the thought still gave me pause. I looked to my left, into the dark black hole, and saw Damian standing against the wall. I couldn't help the smile that spread across my face.

He watched me approach, his eyes traveling down my figure. Instead of feeling shy, it made me feel confident. In any other situation, I would retreat into myself, wondering if my hair looked bad or if my outfit didn't match. With Damian, that wasn't the case. "Good evening," he mumbled, brushing a wayward strand of hair from my glossy lips. His eyes were sparkling. 

"So where are we going?" I asked, using the question to try and drown out my beating heart.

"It's a surprise," he answered, his hands returning to his pockets.

I shook my head. "Of course it is." 

The train sped by, the rails squeaking loudly as it braked to a stop. The doors slid open and Damian took my hand, leading me into the mostly empty car. He led the way to two empty seats, his dark form like a phantom floating through the small space. He pulled me down into the chair beside him and noticed my wide smile. "What?"

I looked around us, taking in the advertisements, the other passengers, the maps pasted to the walls. "I've never been on the subway before," I admitted.

"You're kidding," he said in disbelief. I shook my head and his eyebrows shot up. "You've got a lot to learn about Gotham."

The ride wasn't long, and we filled the time discussing our days. He had spent the day with his friends, marching in an animal rights campaign on campus. He explained that Logan, an activist and vegan, had enlisted their help and they had happily obliged. I told him about the dark room, the process of developing photographs manually. "Anything good?" he asked, his voice dripping with insinuation. 

I rolled my eyes. "Yes, they were photos of you."

A bright smile pulled his lips from his teeth. I could've kissed him right then.

The train pulled to a stop, the mechanical voice overhead announcing the platform, and he took my hand once more. We stepped out of the car, ascending the stairs. I struggled to keep up with him as he took the steps two at a time. "Come on," he rushed me, his excitement making him impatient. "We're going to be late."

"Can you tell me where we're going now?" I asked, trying to catch my breath.

"Almost there."

We walked two blocks, weaving around pedestrians, families, visitors. The city was lit up, the energy electrifying. I knew where we were once we arrived. "Gotham Institute of Art." I took in the beauty of the architecture, especially in the artificial light.

"We don't have to look at it from the outside," he said, smiling down at me. 

I creased my brow in confusion. "Aren't they closed?"

"Not for us."

He led me to a side entrance, a glass door to the right of the front doors. The museum was still lit up inside, revealing some of the art it held. He pounded loudly on the glass, making me nervous that it might break. We waited a moment before a stout woman in a security uniform came from a small office behind the front desk. She unlocked the door with a ring full of keys. "Damian, how are you?" she asked warmly.

"I'm fine. I hope you stayed out of trouble today," he said and I swore I could see her blush. "Thanks for letting us do this."

She waved a hand at him. "Don't be silly. You're welcome any time."

I raised my eyebrows at him and he caught my look, smirking.

Our shoes echoed off the shiny floors, as he led me through the main archway. He went to turn down a side aisle and I stopped him. "Aren't you going to tell me why you have special privileges here?"

He looked at me over his shoulder. "Does it matter?"

I followed him down the hallway to a door that had a plaque to the right of it. _Martha Wayne Memorial Room_. "Who's Martha Wayne?" I asked.

"A curator for the institute. She died a long time ago, but these were her favorite pieces. She was a big fan of photography, like you." He stood back and let me enter the room.

I stared in wonder at the walls around me, taking in the intricacies and depth of the photos. They were fantastic, fascinating, exquisite. It made me feel inspired and inadequate at the same time. "Did you know her, Martha Wayne?"

Damian was still in the doorway, watching me. "No, I've never met her." He made his way toward me, each step he took was deliberate. "My father used to bring me here after hours. He said it made him feel peaceful, like he was home. I wanted to give you that feeling here. Like you're home."

His hand was one the back of my neck, tilting my face to his. I didn't fight it.

We talked about the photos, which ones were our favorites, his fingers dangling from mine. It was a small connection, but it felt stronger than anything I had felt with anyone since moving to the city. Once we'd seen everything worth seeing, we took the subway back to campus, his hand never far from mine. It was a comfort I hadn't felt since leaving my family.

I laughed as we made our way to the apartments, amused at Damian's attempt to repeat my Swedish phrase. "What is it again?" he asked, chuckling.

"Du har så vackra ögon," I repeated, enunciating so he could understand. He said it again, correcting himself, and I applauded. "Not bad." 

We had stopped at the entrance to the apartments, and I didn't want to leave him. "You could come up for a drink?" he said as more of a question, leaving the decision up to me. I nodded.

I followed him out of the elevator and down the dimly lit hall, stopping in front of his door. I suddenly got nervous. "Is your roommate here?" I asked, terrified that someone would see us together and tell Kal that I'd gone into another man's apartment at this hour. 

"He's out for the night," he replied in a hushed tone. I nodded and he opened the door.


	11. Damian

I led her inside, glad that I had spent time cleaning up before I even knew whether or not she'd agree to come up. To be honest, I was a little surprised that she had. I discussed it briefly with Victor before he left, rolling his eyes before telling me that straightening up would make a good impression. I was glad I listened.

I locked the door behind me and watched as Kory set her bad down on the kitchen table, her footsteps light as if she might disturb something by moving to quickly or loudly. I set my keys next to her bag. "We have beer, vodka, whiskey, I think we have some gin somewhere," I offered, breaking the silence. I rummaged through the cupboards, pulling down half empty bottles of liquor.

"Um, do you have any tea?" she asked, her voice just above a whisper.

"Yah," I said, slightly taken aback. I hoped she hadn't thought I was trying to take advantage of the situation. I wasn't. Was I?

I took out the small tea tin that was left by Rachel when she'd visited and berated Victor and I for living like true college animals, only drinking water and liquor. I would have to make sure I thanked her the next time I saw her. I handed the tin to Kory. "Here, I don't know much about tea."

She smiled shyly, taking the tin and making her way to the stove. She looked comfortable here, in this foreign space, her movements sure now. I wondered if she often drank tea at night, maybe before bed, and this was routine for her. I sat down at the kitchen table, watching as she pulled a mug from the cupboard, filled it with water from the sink, and stuck it in the microwave. She made her way to the table, sitting to my right, resting her chin on one hand. She cleared her throat before speaking. "Thank you for tonight," she said, a faint smile on her lips. "You're more fun to hang out with than I thought."

"Dark and scary Damian isn't so dark and scary after all, huh?" I asked, winking. She laughed. We listened to the microwave whirring, heating up her water. "I'm glad you enjoyed yourself. I've never taken anyone there before."

Her eyes were searching mine. "Why did you take me?"

I leaned forward, closer to her. Her eyes were beautiful. "You know why."

Quiet again. The microwave whirring. I reached out my hand, brushing my thumb along her cheek. She leaned into my touch, her eyes fluttering closed. I trailed a finger down her neck, her skin soft and warm under my fingertip. Here eyes stayed closed as I traced her collar bone, back and forth, her breathing hitching in her throat. I drew a line down her chest, stopping at the top of her dress, pushing a little further. I watched her face, waiting for her to tell me to stop, but she stayed as she was. I could feel her heartbeat under my finger.

I leaned in, pressing my lips softly against hers, leaving my eyes open to watch for a reaction. She kissed me back, breathing heavily, the microwave dinging behind us. Her lips never left mine. I pushed her jacket off her shoulders and she let it fall to the floor. She uncrossed her legs to move closer to me and I stood up, my face hovering above hers. "Come with me," I said. She roared with laughter as I pulled her onto my back and carried her down the hall, her arms wrapped around my neck. I turned around, dropping her onto my bed, eliciting another laugh from her.

I laid next to her, taking her face in my hands again, kissing her more fervently than before. It had been a long time since I'd had a girl in my room while I was completely sober and it was exciting for me. Would I remember these details tomorrow? The feel of her soft skin, the warmth of her tongue against mine? She let my hands explore her body, her dress riding up her thighs as we moved closer on the bed. My fingertips slid under the thin strap on her shoulder, pushing it down. She pulled her elbow back, freeing herself from the garment, and my lips found the skin of her breast. She let out a small whimper, her hands running through my hair, as I sucked hard on the delicate skin, drawing the blood to the surface.

I let my hand wander to her hip, sliding around to her ass, palming the skin under her dress. My fingers traveled along the waistband of her panties, soft like moths fluttering against her skin. I pulled back to look at her, and she blinked up at me. "You're so beautiful," I whispered, sliding my hand inside her panties, feeling the dampness between her legs. She raised her hips to meet my fingers, the most sensitive parts of her rubbing against me. I circled my fingers around her, her eyes wide, staring into mine. I placed two fingers at her entrance and pushed gently inside, her mouth opening wider. 

"Wait," she said, taking my wrist with her hand. "I have to tell you something."

My fingers stilled inside her. "What is it?"

She pressed her knees together, her booted feet resting on the edge of the bed. Her hands flew to cover her face. "I've never."

I furrowed my brows. "Never what?" She peeked at me through her fingers and I understood. "Oh."

"Does that change anything for you?" she asked, her voice small.

I thought about it for a moment. The only time I had been with a virgin, as far as I was aware, was Donna. I looked down at Kory. "Not if it doesn't change anything for you." She removed her hands from her face. "We can stop if you want," I said, reluctantly. I wanted her so bad, but I would understand if she wanted to stop at any time.

Her wide eyes peered up at me, her hand going back to my wrist between her legs. "You can keep going, I just don't know-"

I slid my fingers in deeper and she winced. I kissed the tip of her nose. "From what I hear, it hurts the first time. But if I do it right, your toes will feel numb."

Her small hands grabbed fistfuls of my shirt, gripping my chest. She kissed me hard and I assumed it was her nerves. My fingers moved slowly and I felt her tension building, her hands pulling me close to her. Her eyes were like saucers, fixed on mine, one hand moving to my hair, which she pulled hard. In an instant, her body relaxed under my hands and I removed my fingers from her body. Her breath slowly returned to normal, a light blush filling her cheeks.

"How do you feel?" I asked, my voice rasped.

She wiggled her feet on the edge of the bed. "I can still feel my toes," she said.

"Well shit," I laughed, resting my head against her shoulder.

"But," she said, clenching and unclenching her fists, "I can't feel my fingers."

I took one of her hands in mine, lacing our fingers together and kissing her knuckles. "I've never met anyone like you," I whispered against her skin.

Her eyes were lit up as she stared up at the ceiling, the light from the hallway creating deep shadows across her face. Her lips were a deep scarlet, like rose petals, her eyelashes like long spider's legs. I wanted to touch her cheek, feel it's softness, feel her warmth forever.


	12. Kory

I woke up with my head on his chest. The room was pitch black, except for the moonlight streaming in through the window, covering him in a silver light. His bare chest was soft and smooth, warm against my cheek as I blinked awake. And then I felt the panic hit me.

I reached across him to the nightstand where his watch lay, ticking quietly in the dark. I picked it up, tilting it in the moonlight, gasping at the time. 2am. "Shit," I whispered through my teeth, rubbing my eyes and smearing my makeup. Damian began to stir underneath me.

"What's wrong," he asked, his voice too loud. He started to sit up, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. 

I lept from the bed, searching in the darkness for my boots, stumbling into the bookshelf next to me. "We fell asleep," I whispered, jamming one foot into a boot.

He was upright now, leaning toward the bedside table, switching on a lamp. He sat with his elbows resting on his knees, watching my stumble around his room, gathering my things. There was an unbothered smirk on his face. "You're really going to leave at 2am? Why don't you just stay the night?"

The thought flashed through my mind. What would upset Kal more? Being gone until the wee hours of the morning or being gone all night? I had a feeling that he'd be far more suspicious if i just never came home. "You know I can't stay," I told Damian, whose smile faded.

"I know," he replied. There was an edge to his response. He was acknowledging the fact, but he didn't like it. I grabbed my purse off the desk and dug out my key, making sure I had it before I left. I pulled my phone out next, seeing four missed calls from Kal along with a few unread texts. Shit. I was in huge trouble. "Wait a minute, just slow down."

I swallowed, my heart thudding loudly in my chest as Damian scooted off the bed, coming towards me. He looked like an angel in the dim light, glowing like an otherworldly creature. He touched my cheek with his fingertips and my mind went back to the feeling of his fingers inside me. Oh God, I told him I was a virgin. This experience with him had been the farthest I'd ever let a man get with me and it did give me a certain feeling of power, as well as attachment to him. I felt different. Different as a person and different with him. I'd allowed him to do this with me and now things had changed. 

"You look beautiful," he said, pressing his lips to mine. His tongue was warm on mine, his palms as they traveled across my shoulders. He pulled at one of the straps of my dress and I stopped him. 

"I really need to go."

He pulled away, running a hand through his hair. "Okay. I'll walk you out."

We made our way back to the kitchen and I noticed the empty mug still on the table. This night had definitely not gone as I'd planned. He opened the front door quietly, letting me into the hallway. I stopped and turned to him, taking his hand. He really was beautiful, having just woken up. "Thank you for tonight, the art gallery, the-" I stopped myself, wondering if it was weird to thank someone for providing me my first orgasm.

He leaned around the door, kissing me again. "I'll see you around," he said in a husky voice. I nodded and headed home.

\---

I shut the apartment door quietly behind me, hoping that Kal would be sleeping soundly when I arrived, giving me time to come up with an excuse for my absence. Instead, he was sitting in a chair by the window, undoubtedly watching for me to return. He wouldn't have known I had been only a couple floors down in Damian's apartment the whole time. 

"Where the fuck were you? I called you, I texted you a million times. I called Zan and he said you weren't with him."

I set my things down, trying to look innocent. I hoped my hair wasn't too messy. "Kal, calm down. I fell asleep, that's all."

He stood up, walking purposefully towards me, his tall lean figure intimidating. "Fell asleep where? Where were you? You're not even wearing a jacket."

Shit. I'd left my jacket at Damian's. "And what's this?" he asked, brushing my hair away from my shoulder. My heart started to pound again when he aggressively pulled the top of my dress down, almost exposing my breast. His finger jabbed at the small red bruise there, Damian's handiwork.

I pushed his arm away forcefully. "It's nothing. I bunred myself with a curling iron."

He scoffed. "Yeah, right. You think I'm stupid?"

I mustered all the authority I could, trying to force myself to feel in control. "Look, I was at the library, I fell asleep. I left my jacket when they kicked me out. Stop making this into a bigger deal than it is."

He stared down at me and I could almost see the smoke coming out of his ears. My acting must have been better than I'd expected because he seemed to relax slightly. "Why couldn't you fucking call me back and let me know where you were going to be? I was fucking worried sick."

I stepped toward him, laying the charm on thick. "I'm sorry, baby, it was an accident. It won't happen again." I nuzzled my face into his shoulder wrapping my arms around his waist. 

"It'd better not," he said against my hair, kissing the top of my head. "I wish I could never let you out of my sight." He held me tightly, constricting me like a snake. He smelled vaguely of chlorine, his skin still soaked in the chemical. 

"Did you take a shower yet?" I asked, tilting my head back to look up at him. He shook his head. "I'll get one started for you."

He released me, the relief almost knocking the wind out of me. I went to the bathroom, still squeaky clean from my nervous cleaning this afternoon, and turned on the hot water. I felt his presence behind me and heard the door close. "I'll be out of your way in just a minute," I said as he pulled his shirt over his head. His eyes were dark as he watched me.

"Take off your dress," he ordered in a low voice. 

"Kal, I really don't want to."

"Why not? Were you with someone else?"

He was trying to call my bluff. I felt the defeat slowly creep in as I realized that he still didn't trust my story. He was going to push it to prove me wrong. "Of course not." My answer was curt.

"Then take off your dress." I swallowed hard. What other evidence had Damian left on my body? What other traces of my lie would Kal find?

I slowly pulled down one strap, then the other, letting the garment drop to the floor. The room was steamy now, the water too hot for me, but just the way Kal preferred it. He removed the rest of his clothes, closing the space between us. My brain was on fire, trying to keep my consciousness away from the reality that was happening to me physically. 

Kal hooked a finger through the waistband of my panties, letting them drop around my ankles. "Get in," he said into my ear. 

I stepped under the hot water, my skin writhing involuntarily under the extreme temperature. Kal stepped in behind me, sliding his hands around my hips. He kissed me harshly, too hard, his fingertips digging into my flesh. I let my hands rest on his shoulders, trying to block out the forceful feeling against my tongue. 

He slid one hand to the small of my back, holding me tightly, and one down between my legs. I inhaled sharply as he pushed his fingers inside me, violently trespassing into a territory that wasn't his. I winced as he clumsily moved them in and out of me, gripping his shoulders with my fingernails now. "Kal, please," I whimpered, not allowing myself to cry in front of him. He was hurting me now, using this as a tactic of revenge. 

"Is this how he did it? Whoever you were with? Am I not good enough for you?" He yanked his fingers out of me, staring down into my eyes with a coldness I'd never seen from him before. "Get out of here. Get away from me." 

I left the shower without a second thought, holding back my tears while I wrapped a towel around myself. In the mirror, my skin was raw from the hot water, my eyes round and red. I was throbbing between my legs, the violation the worst part of all of the pain. I gathered my clothes and stopped one more time in front of the mirror. There were small love bites covering my chest and one side of my neck. I felt like I could count the fingerprints Damian had left on me and it seemed as though Kal could, too.


	13. Damian

She had texted me that morning, asking me to meet her at the bar just off campus around lunchtime. I asked her if everything was okay and never got a response, which of course meant that everything was not okay. I had slept like an angel after she left the night before, feeling dare I say hopeful about what was to come for us, but her request for a meeting was ominous. 

I stepped into the dark bar, glancing around the small space for her. I had been here a few times before with my friends for various occasions and I was vaguely familiar with the layout. There were only two patrons seated at the long, wooden bar, and neither of them glanced up when I entered.

I sat down between them, at least two chairs between each of us, and flagged down the bartender. "What can I get you?" he asked in a gravelly voice. I was amused by how normal he acted about serving alcohol this early in the day. Then again, I myself had been known to start drinking earlier than this. 

"I'm actually just waiting for someone," I answered and he walked away without another word. It was weird that Kory would want to meet at a bar in the middle of the day. Maybe she was nearby? Maybe she liked to stop in between classes for a mid-day pick-me-up? I sat alone, awkwardly, for only a moment more before she came from the swinging doors that led to the kitchen in the back. She had a plate of food in one hand, setting it down in front of the guy to my right. She glanced over and saw me, relief washing over her. Her reaction once again sparked my nerves.

"What's going on?" I asked as she approached me. "You work here?"

She nodded. "Yah, a couple days a week. University isn't cheap." It was true, but she had a hint of amusement in her tone. 

"So what did you want to talk about?" She looked good in her waitress uniform, the small white t-shirt and black pants hugging her body like a glove. I could see her black bra through the fabric and I licked my lips. 

"Um, do you mind if we go out back?" She took my hand between both of hers and ran her thumbs over my skin. I nodded, my brow creasing, and followed behind her as she led me through the kitchen, out the backdoor, and into the alley behind the bar. 

The weather was getting colder, the air moist, warning of coming rain. She wrapped her arms tightly around herself and I slid my black leather jacket off, draping it over her shoulders. "You left yours at my place," I said, smirking. 

"Damian, I-" she started, stopping herself to collect her thoughts. I dug intothe pocket of my jeans pulling out a pack of cigarettes.

"Do you mind?" I asked. I took one out as she shook her head, sticking it between my lips. "Do you...want one? It might help calm you down."

She sighed, kicking an empty bottle across the concrete. "Fuck it," she said, holding out her hand. 

I smiled, pulling out a second cigarette and a lighter. I placed it between her full lips, running my thumb over her bottom lip. She looked up at me with doe eyes, large with wonder. "Don't tell me you've never smoked before," I said, lighting my own cigarette first. She shook her head. "I have so much to teach you." I smiled down at her, but she wasn't smiling back.

I cupped my hand around the end of the cigarette in her mouth, flicking the lighter, feeling the heat against my palm. "Breathe in," I instructed. "Not too much, you'll choke."

She coughed loudly, pulling the cigarette from her mouth. "It tastes like a campfire," she said, holding the back of her hand against her lips. 

I chuckled. "It makes you look cooler." Now she was smiling. "So are you going to tell me what's going on?" 

"I don't know what's going on. Kal, last night he...he freaked out. He saw my body and he just flipped."

"Saw your body?" I asked, confused. I inhaled deeply from my cigarette, blowing the smoke away from Kory. 

She hesitated, glancing past me, before pulling the hem of her shirt up, revealing her skin underneath. There were a few small purple spots on her breasts, one near her collar bone. "Shit," I said, brushing a fingertip over one of the bruises. "I didn't even think that he might see it."

She pulled her shirt back down and crossed her arms. "He's pissed. Beyond pissed."

"Did you tell him it was me?" I asked, suddenly feeling very nervous that Kal was standing behind me, waiting to kill me in this alleyway. 

Kory shook her head, trying another small drag from her cigarette. She did much better this time. "I didn't tell him anything. But he knew. He touched me... violently."

I stared at her, uncomprehending. "What do you mean?"

She looked away, biting her lower lip. "I mean, he used his fingers, but it was really rough."

I felt a surge of hot rage boil inside me at her words. "He hurt you?" 

I watched tears well up in her eyes and her lip quivered. "He was just really upset. I'd never let him touch me there before, but he knew I'd been with someone else. He doesn't know I'm a virgin."

I rubbed a hand over my face, trying to control my anger. "I'm... I'm going to kill him. Where is he right now?"

"Damian, please. I'm coming to you as a friend. You can't do anything about it. If he finds out it was you, it could be bad for both of us. He might kick me out of the apartment."

I threw my cigarette on the ground stomping on it. I took Kory by the shoulders, bending my face close to hers. "Look, we can find you somewhere else to stay. You don't need to go back to him."

"But that's my home. It's all I've known since I got to Gotham."

I brushed the hair out of her eyes and pulled her close to me. I could feel the blood rushing through my veins with adrenaline. "Don't worry about it. We'll think of something."

\---

I slammed the apartment door behind me, throwing my keys across the kitchen. There was music coming from Victor's room, but the volume lowered when he heard my violent entrance. "Day?" he called from down the hallway. 

I heard his voice, but it sounded distant, miles away. I couldn't keep my anger from boiling over and I needed to break something. I saw the dishes, freshly washed and frying in the rack next to the sink. Victor always took care of the dishes. I slid my arms across the countertop, throwing the dishes to the floor with a loud crash, taking the toaster down along with them. It felt good, but it wasn't enough.

I walked into the living room, grabbing the neck of the nearest lamp and throwing it against the far wall. "What the fuck are you doing?" Victor was behind me, trying to wrangle my arms, which were searching for the next breakable object. "Damian, what the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Get the fuck off me, Vic."

My voice wasn't my own. I tore my jacket off, throwing it on the ground and stomping down the hallway to my room. I picked up the record player I had in the corner and raised it above my head, flinging it against the wood floor, splintering it beyond repair. I pinched the mirror and sent shard flying, some pieces getting stuck in my knuckles. I felt the blood trickle down, reveling in the stinging pain I felt from my broken skin.

Victor was standing in the doorway, his eyes as round as saucers. "I'm going to ask you one more time. What the fuck?"

My chest was heaving from the effort of destroying the apartment, adrenaline still coursing through me. Victor took a cautious step into the room, dodging the mangled record player and making his way to me. "Tell me what's going on," he said calmly, gripping my right shoulder firmly.

I shook my head, still trying to collect my thoughts, catch my breath. "It's all my fault," I forced out, between breaths. "He hurt her and it's my fault."

"Kory?" Vic asked, his voice still cautious. 

I nodded, my lips going numb from the adrenaline. I felt the blood drain from my face. 

"Okay, we're going to sit you down and I'll go get some water. Then you can tell me what's going on."

I nodded again, stumbling to the edge of the bed. Once I was sat down, Victor went to the kitchen. I heard him walk over the broken glass to the cupboard, where he grabbed a clean glass. I heard the tap turn on, then off, then his footsteps coming back toward me. He sat down next to me, handing me the glass of water and taking my bleeding hand in his. He pressed a damp washcloth to my skin and I winced. "You fucking idiot," he muttered, examing the damage to my skin. 

I drank the cold water, feeling it slide all the way down my throat and into my stomach. He was quiet as he picked out shards of mirror from my knuckles. "You were right, i should've stayed away from her." He didn't respond. He knew he'd been right. "She came over last night and we-" He glanced up at me now, tilting his head in disappointment at me. He sighed. "We didn't have sex. She's a...she didn't want to. But we did other things." I jerked my hand away as he pulled out a shard that was particularly deep. 

"Hold still," he muttered. 

"Anyway, Kal found out. He doesn't know it was me, but he knows she was with someone else. I don't know what to do."

"Is she safe? Is she okay?" he asked, wiping away more blood.

I shrugged. "I think so. For now. I just wish there was a way to get her out of that situation. Away from him."

"You realize that she's a grown woman, right? She's capable of making her own decisions. You know you shouldn't have gotten involved in her relationship, and now that you have, I think you should lay low for awhile. Stay away from each other until this blows over. And then we can talk about getting her some help."

I searched his eyes, wondering how he was so calm, so collected and so much wiser than I was. "You have your father's fucking temper," he said, chuckling. "And I'm not cleaning up this mess. I'll get you the broom."


	14. Damian

"I truly can't thank you enough for doing this, Rach. You're the best."

I carried two boxes, stacked one on top of the other, into Rachel's apartment, doing my best not to tip over on my way in. I had decided to come to Rachel after talking with Victor about the situation with Kory and Kal. Rachel was one of the only women in the world that I felt I could trust and who would trust me in return. I asked her if she would be okay with Kory moving into the spare bedroom of her two-bedroom apartment while Kory waited for Kal to cool down. It wasn't meant to be a permanent solution to the problem, but we had all figured that getting Kory out of Kal's apartment was a good first step.

Rachel stepped out of my way, backing up close to the wall, with a sour look on her face. I know this isn't ideal for her, either. She rented an apartment by herself for a reason, which makes her willingness to help out even more generous. "Mhm," she mumbled as I slid past her.

"I think this is the last of it," Vic said behind me, closing the door with his foot. Rachel crossed her arms, watching as we dropped the boxes into the empty room at the end of the hallway. Kory was floating around the apartment, looking uncomfortable in the new space. I could tell she thought she was imposing, and maybe she was, maybe we all were, but this was going to be for the best.

"Make yourself at home," Rachel said, gesturing with her hand. I wrapped my arms around her shoulders, squeezing her tight, trying to lighten her mood. I planted several obnoxious kisses on top of her short black hair as she tried to wriggle out of my grip. "Ew, you're sweaty, get off me." With one final push against my chest, I released her and leaned against the kitchen counter, smiling. 

"How do you like it, Kory? Do you think you'll be okay here?"

Kory pressed her lips together into a tight line and nodded quickly. "Sure, of course. Again, Rachel, I can't thank you enough for letting me stay here for now." She made it a point to stress that this was only going to be temporary.

Rachel's expression softened, tilting her head to the side. "Of course. You'll have to let me know what you like to eat. I'm actually a really good cook."

Victor was shaking his head discreetly behind Rachel's back and she swatted at him. "Ouch," he laughed, jumping away from her swinging arm.

"Oh, please don't go to any extra trouble. I think I can manage to take care of myself."

Rachel smiled politely. "I guess I'll let you get settled in. I have some homework to do so you two-" she pointed at Victor and me, "can go fuck off somewhere else."

Victor gasped playfully, and I widened my eyes, feigning offense. Rachel rolled her eyes and retreated down the hallway.

"Damian and I were actually going to get some lunch, if you'd like to join us," Victor said to Kory, who still looked a little lost in her new apartment.

"Sure, I guess that sounds okay." She shrugged and grabbed her purse, following us out the door.

\---

We decided to take Kory to our favorite Chinese restaurant, the one that our group always went to for celebrations. We didn't say anything to her, but it definitely seemed like a time to celebrate. Kory, however, stared at the sidewalk as we made our way to the restaurant, keeping to herself and only interjecting when Vic or I asked her a question directly.

"Hey," I said, stopping her outside the restaurant, taking her by the elbow. "Is everything okay?"

She turned her face to me, her expression turning not only distant, but annoyed. "I'm fine." Her tone was clipped and I let go of her elbow.

"Really? Because it seems like something's bothering you. You've barely said a word all day." I tried to contain my frustration toward her. One of my best friends had just let her move in, something she had definitely not wanted to do, and now we were taking her out to lunch, trying to cheer her up. I didn't understand her attitude.

"I don't need this from you right now," she snapped, her voice barely above a whisper. A couple walked through the door that I was still holding open for Kory, who made no move to enter. Her eyes were like fire, boring into me.

"I understand your situation isn't ideal right now, but-"

Her nostrils flared as she interrupted me. "Not ideal? You sure are observant, aren't you."

I took a step closer to her, my temper flaring. "What the fuck is with your attitude?"

"Don't you swear at me. Who do you think you are?"

My eyes widened in surprise. This was definitely not the Kory that I knew. I clenched my jaw, trying to keep in all of the hurtful things I wanted to say. Like, why had she decided to date and asshole like Kal in the first place? Why had she let him treat her like shit, but when I tried to do anything nice for her, she pushed back? If she didn't want to live with Rachel, she didn't have to. So why was she taking it out on me? "Listen, I don't have the fucking time for this. We're just trying to help you out of a situation you got yourself into. You can't blame us for caring."

"Oh, you think I got myself into this situation? None of this would be happening if it weren't for you." I watched the tears well up in her eyes and I was taken aback.

I swallowed hard, fighting back the anger rising in me. "Wait, you're blaming me?"

"Of course I'm blaming you!" she screamed, and I noticed a couple people inside the restaurant look over at us. 

My hands flew to my chest and the door swung closed. "What the fuck did I do?" I yelled back.

"Kal never would have found out if you hadn't-" she sighed heavily, gesturing toward her torso. "You left marks on me. Otherwise he never would have known."

I made eye contact with Victor inside the restaurant, who looked like he wanted to simultaneously come break up our fight and sneak out the back so no one would know the two crazy people were with him. I shook my head and turned my gaze back down to her. "Okay, look, I know you're new to a lot of this stuff-"

"Exactly. But I thought you were supposed to know what you were doing, seeing as you've slept with half of the female population at GCU."

A man in a suit walked past us and smirked at her comment.

"You're really going to go there?" I snapped.

"You're damn right I am."

Her shoulders were rising and falling vigorously, her breath coming out in hot bursts. I realized I was doing the same, my lips going numb from the adrenaline. She was furious with me, but she couldn't take her eyes off of me, barely even blinking. 

"Alright, how are we doing out here?" Victor poked his head out the door, looking cautiously between Kory and me. When neither of us responded, he continued. "So we can either go inside and take a seat and have lunch like adults, or we can go somewhere else where you two won't embarrass me any more. You decide."

I ran a hand over my face, breaking eye contact with Kory after what felt like hours. "I'm fucking starving, let's just eat."

"We can go inside," Kory agreed, her voice returning to it's normal softness. Victor held the door open and we both entered the warm restaurant, ignoring the stares that we were getting. I usually did my best to lay low when I was in public, so as not to damage the Wayne reputation. I couldn't tell if any of the stares we were getting now were because they recognized me or if it was only because of the meltdown Kory and I had just had. I sighed, hoping I hadn't done any damage to either of our images. 

"Yo, is she okay?" Victor asked in a low voice, walking closely behind me. 

"I don't know man, I think she's still trying to work everything out in her mind." He nodded.

Kory huffed as she sat down and I took the seat opposite her, forcing her to look at me. If she wanted to play games, I would be happy to oblige. 

"Have you ever been here, Kory?" Victor asked in his most friendly voice. 

"Um, no, I don't really get off campus very often," she muttered. Her eyes flicked to me and I stared right back.

"Well, I don't know what Damian has told you, but this is some of the best food you'll ever have. We always come here, don't we, Day?" He nudged me with his elbow. I nodded in response, keeping my eyes on Kory.

Victor cleared his throat, raising his eyebrows at my reaction. "Well, listen, Kory," he started. He was using his calm voice, the one he had used on me so many times before to diffuse situations. He placed a hand over hers on the table and she finally looked over at him. "If you ever need anything, anything at all, please know that you can come to any of us. Even if it's just to borrow a pen for class. We'd be glad to help you out."

There it was, her small smile returning. Damn Victor and his smoothness. How could he do that, comfort her with just the touch of a hand and a soothing voice, when it seemed that all I was capable of was starting screaming matches and making her close herself off from me.

"I'm sorry for how I've been acting, this is just quite hard for me. I know that you're just trying to be nice."

Victor nodded sympathetically. "And if I'm being honest," he held up a hand to the side of his face, so I couldn't see what he was saying next, "none of us really like Damian all that much, either." 

I punched his shoulder, hard, and he genuinely flinched away from me. Kory covered her mouth while she laughed. I slammed my elbow against the table, pointing a finger in Victor's face. My rage may have dissipated, but it was starting to come back now. "You're a fucking dick." He laughed and flipped me off.

We ordered food and ate while Victor did most of the talking, asking Kory questions about herself, which she answered obligingly. Once he found out she wasn't from Gotham, he seemed to have a million questions about her home, which she seemed more than happy to talk about. "The sunsets there are a million times more beautiful than here," she said with stars in her eyes. Victor asked her about her father, which is when she started to shut down.

"He must be proud of you, coming to a new country and working as hard as you do." Victor picked up a piece of chicken from my plate and popped it into his mouth.

Kory looked down into her teacup, her face turning a light rose red. "I think that maybe if he knew how things were actually going, he might not be so proud."

I sniffed, taking her words as a jab at me. She wasn't the first girl who thought that their parents wouldn't approve of me and I figured that was what she was hinting at. I decided to speak up. "Well, you're already doing much better now, moving out of that asshole's apartment."

"Day," Victor warned.

I watched Kory clench her jaw, but she never looked up. "I don't claim to be perfect. I know that I make mistakes, but at least I can own up to them."

"But you haven't even done anything wrong!" I whispered loudly, leaning across the table.

Victor sat back in his chair and sighed. "Here we go again," he mumbled.

Kory made eye contact with me, her blazing eyes meeting mine. "I cheated on my boyfriend with you!" she whispered back, and immediately covered her mouth, glancing over at Victor. "I mean..."

Victor was staring at his hands in his lap. I swallowed. "He knows," I admitted.

She squinted at me and my chest tightened. "You told him?"

"Honey, nobody else knows. Your boyfriend isn't going to find out," Victor chimed in.

"Who else have you told?" she asked. There was hurt in her voice that made my throat constrict.

I held my hands up innocently. "I swear, no one else knows."

"Do you do this with all the girls you fuck around with? Spread it all over campus for everyone to know?" she crossed her arms and I could see more tears in her eyes.

"I would never do that!"

Victor stood up and grabbed the check off the table. "Okay, I'm going to pay so we can leave."

"Wait," Kory stopped him, putting a hand on his forearm. "I was going to pay for lunch, since you guys moved all my stuff for me."

"No, you're not," I said, before I could stop myself.

"You can't tell me what to do," she spat, snatching the check from Victor and marching to the counter.

Victor rubbed his forehead, chuckling to himself. "What the fuck is so funny to you?" I asked, gathering the trash on the table and piling it on my plate. 

"You have got to stop antagonizing her," he said, sitting back down next to me. I knew I was about to get a lecture from him and I knew I deserved it. Whenever I got to hyped up, he was always there to bring me back down to reality and talk some sense into me. But today, right now, I didn't want to hear it. This felt different, like something I didn't want his advice on.

"I'm not fucking antagonizing her, she's being too sensitive."

He was shaking his head before I even finished speaking. "You don't get to decide how she reacts to this situation. It's about her, not you. Didn't we agree that you were going to keep a distance for awhile so she could sort through her feelings?"

"I don't remember agreeing to that," I muttered, standing up and dropping a couple of five dollar bills on the table. "That sounds like one of your ideas."

Victor laughed again as Kory made her way back to us. "All set?" he asked her and she nodded. She wouldn't meet my eyes, but I figured that, right now, it was for the best.


	15. Kory

I sat in the dark on a mattress on the floor of a room that wasn't really mine. I hadn't unpacked any of the boxes that Damian and Victor had helped me move because I didn't plan on even staying. _I don't know these people_ , I thought to myself, grabbing the half empty wine bottle sitting next to my foot. Rachel had gifted the wine to me as a move in gift, but I suspected it had been a suggestion from Damian or Victor rather than from the kindness of her heart.

Luckily for me, Rachel seemed to be a pretty busy person, one who didn't spend much time at her own apartment. She had left earlier in the evening for class and still hadn't returned. I checked the clock on my phone. 2am. I giggled to myself. _I'm so pathetic._ Drinking alone in a dark apartment in the middle of the night all because my boyfriend found out I had cheated on him once. How had I gotten here?

My blood started to boil as I thought more and more about my situation, drinking more and more wine. Damian. That's how I got here. I never should have agreed to photograph him in the first place. That's what led to this whole mess to begin with. But he had been so kind, seeming to be genuinely interested in getting to know me, really know me, rather than just drag me around as an accessory to make him look good. In the months that I'd been in this city, he was the only one to show me any amount of attention without expecting anything from me but more time with him. Even with Zan, who I would consider the best friend I'd had in awhile, would compliment me and then expect a compliment in return. 

Still, I didn't like the situation I was in. It didn't sit right with me. I came to this city, to this country to make something of myself, to prove to myself and my father that I was worth more than we had ever dreamed. So far, I felt like I had failed. I couldn't take it anymore. I had to confront him. Damian. I had tried to make him understand at the Chinese restaurant, but he refused to accept any of the blame. I grabbed my phone and slammed the rest of the wine, feeling my head swim inside my skull, stalking out the door. I knew where he lived, I remembered the number outside his door. Apartment 317. Two floors down from here.

I stumbled down the hallway, using my whole fist to push the elevator button, leaning against the wall while I waited for the car to arrive. _This is his fault_ , I thought to myself. It was all his fault. The elevator dinged and I stepped inside. Thankfully, there was no one inside to see me push two other numbers before I managed to hit the number 3. The doors slid shut and the elevator carried me down, down to Damian, down to the reason for my suffering. I nodded to myself, proud that I had made this decision. This was the first time I was going to stand up for myself. No more pushing me around.

The music in the car played quietly and I bobbed my head while I waited to arrive on the third floor. I watched the little red number above the door change from five to four, pausing and the doors opening with a soft clunk. I giggled to myself again for my inaccuracy with the elevator buttons. "Third floor, not fourth," I said aloud and covered my mouth, trying to hold in my laughter. I made it to the third floor and stepped out of the elevator, tripping over my own feet. I stared down the dark hallway that looked identical to every other hallway in the building, and questioned whether I was on the right floor or not. I decided to trust that I got it right, even in my angry, drunken state, and made my way through the dark, touching every number plate outside the doors as I went. 324, 322, 319, 317. 

I stood in front of his door, licked my lips, and knocked. "Damian," I whispered, as if it would do any good. There was silence inside the apartment. I knocked again, a little louder. "Answer your door, you asshole." I smiled to myself when I heard the slur in my words. I felt brave. I pulled my phone out of my pocket, trying to scroll to his number when the door swung open. 

"What the hell are you doing here?" Damian stood before me, his hair pointing in every direction, in only a pair of gym shorts. His caramel skin was smooth and flawless, every muscle visible underneath. Damn, he looked good.

"Why did you answer the door?" I asked, staring at his body.

He rubbed his eyes with the backs of his hands. "What?"

"You didn't even check the peephole, I could have been a murderer." There was a lamp on in the living room behind him, illuminating him from the back and making him look like an angel sent from heaven. "You're glowing," I slurred.

His look of utter confusion was replaced with understanding. "You're wasted, aren't you?"

"How dare you?" I shouted, pointing a finger at him. I took a step closer to him, jamming my fingertip into his collar bone. "How dare you pretend that you're perfect and that I'm not."

He shushed me, grabbing my hand and pulling me inside. He closed the door quietly behind us without loosening his grip on me. "First of all, it's two in the morning so you have to be quiet. People are sleeping. Secondly, I don't think this is a good time to do this. You're not in your right mind."

I yanked my hand away from him, stumbling backward slightly. He reached out to catch me, but I steadied myself on the kitchen table behind me. "Don't tell me what to do," I shouted again, his eyes widening in frustration.

"Victor is sleeping," he hissed between his teeth. "Come here." He tried to take my hand again to lead me down the hallway to his bedroom.

I shook my head, feeling suddenly very dizzy. "No, I'm not going anywhere with you."

His shoulders slumped. "Please, I'll take you home and we can talk about this tomorrow."

I crossed my arms and walked to the living room, stepping out of my shoes first. "I said, I'm not going anywhere with you." I took in the sight before me: textbooks laid out on the coffee table, the dull glow of the lamp next to the couch emitting just enough light to see in the otherwise dark room. He must have fallen asleep here while studying. At least he was a hard worker. 

I fell back onto the couch in a huff. The ceiling was spinning, but the longer I sat, the more it slowed. I took a deep breath in and exhaled, still feeling the confidence from the alcohol. Damian leaned against the entryway, crossing his arms. "Say what you're going to say then," he said in a low voice. The way his eyes watched my face, with an intensity that told me he was really willing to listen, encouraged me.

"I'm just so confused," I said, my chest heaving with adrenaline. 

"Confused about what?" he asked.

I pointed at him without looking at him. "I'm confusing you?" he asked, a hand pointing to his own chest. "And what have I done to confuse you?"

"You know what you did. Taking me to the art gallery and treating me like a friend and then bringing me back here and making me feel..."

He raised his eyebrows, waiting for me to continue. "What did I make you feel?" he asked. He pushed off the wall with his shoulder and walked toward me. I held up a hand to stop him, but he walked right into it, the skin of his stomach hot against my palm. "Did I make you feel good and wanted, like you should?"

I shook my head again, with less conviction this time. His proximity was making me forget what I came here to yell at him for. He sat down on the couch next to me, close enough that his knee rested against mine. "I was with Kal and we never should have..." I rested my head against the back of the couch. "It was wrong, I know it was wrong. But I can't help but feel the way I feel." My own words were surprising even to me, and I could feel his eyes on my lips, unable to believe what he was hearing himself.

"Do you hear yourself?" he chuckled. "You're more confusing than I am. What you have to realize now though is that you're free. You are free to do what you want, to make whatever decisions please you. You don't need to think about anyone else, only you. So what do you want?"

I was angry, wasn't I? I got drunk and came down here to yell at him, didn't I? Why was I moving closer to him, lacing my fingers with his, staring into his eyes and wanting nothing more than to feel good with him again. " _Jag vill ha dig_ ," I whispered. _I want you_. I pressed my lips to his, so softly that I wasn't sure if I had actually done it. I traced his lower lip with my tongue, his hand finding it's way to my thigh. My heart was beating faster, my body aching to be closer to his. I kissed him harder, turning to face him all the way, when he pulled back.

"We shouldn't do this, not like this," he whispered, his breathing heavy. Even in the low light, I could see how wild his eyes were. Suddenly, my head felt clearer, the fuzziness of the alcohol fading slightly. I traced my fingertips against his bare chest, taking my lower lip between my teeth. 

"I want to feel good again. I want you to make me feel good." I pressed a kiss against his neck, just below his ear, and his breath caught in his throat. I climbed onto his lap, planting my knees on either side of his hips and taking his face in my hands. "I want you like this." I took his hands in mine, placing them underneath the hem of my shirt. His eyes traveled down the front of me, his fingertips pressing firmly into my skin. His hands moved up, my skin burning under his touch, to palm my breasts. I watched his long eyelashes flutter while I raised my arms over my head and he pulled my shirt off of me. My heart raced as his tongue traced lines over my skin, his lips sucking gently against the soft skin under my breasts. I ran my hands through his hair, holding him close to me, wondering how far I was going to take this. I wasn't completely sober and I wasn't sure how I'd feel in the morning, but right now, all I wanted was to be as close to him as possible.

He lifted my body, laying me back on the couch, his own body hovering over me. He continued kissing me, while his hands found the hem of my pants, tugging them down. I stopped him. "What are we doing?" I asked, against his mouth. I started to feel nervous. I had never been naked with another guy, not even Kal. He had touched me and I touched him, but we hadn't even taken it this far before. 

"Nothing you don't want to do," Damian answered, pulling back to look at my face. I bit my lip again, gripping his hips tightly. 

I looked away from him, embarrassed. "I don't think I'm ready yet," I said, trying not to feel self conscious, laying topless underneath a boy I had come over here to berate.

He kissed me gently, my lips, my cheek, the tip of my nose. "That's okay," he whispered, pushing my pants down further. "Just let me do this one thing."

I looked up into his eyes, my heart beating out of my chest, and put all of my trust in him. I nodded, remembering the last time we were together like this, and the numbness in my fingers when he gave me my first orgasm. I lifted my hips so he could slide my pants off, feeling more exposed than ever before. "You're fucking beautiful," he said with his lips pressed against my collar bone. He kissed down my body, between my breasts, my navel, and stopped at my hipbone, where he paused, looking up at me in interest. "You have a tattoo?"

I gripped my fingers in his hair and smiled. I had gotten the tiny rose on my hip just before coming to Gotham, something to remind me of home. I had chosen an inconspicuous location so that it could remain unnoticed and be a private reminder only to me. Until now. 

He kissed my rose again and positioned himself between my legs. I gasped when I felt his tongue glide over me, sending electricity through my legs. He swirled his tongue around, kissing and sucking me softly, before inserting his fingers inside me. I felt the pressure building between my legs, my hands gripping desperately in his hair. My back arched off the couch, one of his hands pressing my hip down to hold me in place. I felt the familiar electrifying sensation travel through my body, as I choked on my gasps, relaxing underneath him once more. He removed his fingers, kissing the inside of my thigh, before looking up at me. I felt the tingling in my fingers as the feeling slowly came back. He climbed back on top of me, his face hovering above mine, his eyes shining. "Do you want to go to bed?" he asked. I brought my hands to my mouth to stifle my giggles, and nodded. He smiled down at me before kissing me once more.

\---

When I woke up, the sun was shining brightly through the window, and it took me a minute to remember what had happened the night before. Drinking alone, deciding to confront Damian, his hands on me in the dim light of the living room...

I sat up straight, my hair a tangled mess and looked around the familiar room. I was in Damian's bed alone, wearing a black t-shirt that wasn't mine. There was a dull pounding in my skull, and I cursed the bright sun as I stumbled out of bed. "Oh no," I muttered to myself as I paced next to the bed. This was bad. What had I done? What had I said last night? Did I berate Damian as I had planned to, or had he really distracted me with his silver tongue again?

The bedroom door opened and Damian stepped into the room. "You're up," he said matter-of-factly. "I brought you some water."

He handed me a glass and I realized just how parched my throat was. "Thanks," I muttered. I watched him as he scooped up some of the dirty laundry that littered the floor. "Um, so I'm sorry about last night," I apologized, sipping the water. It felt good sliding down my throat, until it hit my empty stomach.

Damian continued cleaning without even glancing my way. "Mmhm," he mumbled. He picked up a white t-shirt and sniffed it, letting it fall back to the floor. "I put your clothes in the wash, they should be done soon and then you can go."

"Excuse me?" I asked, the irritation from the day before returning like it never left.

"That's what you want, isn't it? You came over here to tell me how awful I am for treating you well. You've already done that, so when your clothes are done, you can be on your way." He threw the dirty clothes into a basket and leaned against the desk in the corner, crossing his arms and staring at me. I noticed how his eyes traveled down my body and I was suddenly very aware that though his t-shirt hung to the middle of my thighs, I wasn't wearing any panties. I pressed my knees together.

What was wrong with him? Had I just imagined the events of the night before? Had we really even done...that...on the couch or had I made it all up in my head? "Look, I don't know what your problem is, but I haven't done anything wrong to you." At least I didn't think I had.

He smiled and shook his head. "You don't remember anything you said last night, do you?"

"Of course I do," I lied. I remember telling him I wanted him. I remember telling him I didn't want to have sex with him yet. Was that why he was being so cold?

"So who's confusing who now?" I gaped at him across the room and never felt farther from him. I pressed the heel of my hand against my forehead, feeling the dull ache. 

"I can't deal with this right now," I said, setting the empty glass on the bedside table. "Where are my shoes, I'm leaving."

"No, we're going to do this now," he said, his voice raised. He made his way over to me, inches from me, looking down at my face. "Tell me what I've done wrong to you. I've done nothing but try to give you everything, things no one has given you before, and you act like I'm the devil for it."

"That's not true!" I yelled, matching his tone. Okay, if he wanted to do this now, I'd oblige. "So far, you've done nothing but take things from me!"

"So that's really how you see it?" He was standing so close, I could smell the soap on him. It was musky and fresh and it was drawing me to him.

"What have you given me, Damian?" I was trying to stand my ground and I was proud that I could match his energy this far. Even with a hangover, I was going to prove him wrong.

He licked his lips, moving even closer to me. "You're the only girl that I've-" He stopped himself and it caught me off guard.

"What? Finish your sentence." My voice had lowered, but I could still feel the electricity radiating from him. He was really worked up.

"No," he shook his head. "You wouldn't understand. You think you're perfect, that you've never messed up before, and I'm always just the fuck-up."

I growled at him. "I don't think I'm perfect! I've never said that, so if you think that's how I feel, it's all in your head."

He ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. I noticed that this was the way he expressed annoyance. "All my life I've been told I'm not good enough. People only want to be friends with me because of who I am."

My brow creased. I wasn't understanding where he was going with this. "That doesn't even make any sense."

There was a soft knock on the door before it clicked open and Victor's head popped into the room. "Kory, I didn't know you stayed over," Victor said in a friendly tone, before he eyed Damian with suspicion. 

I cleared my throat, very aware of my appearance. "Good morning, Victor," I said in the friendliest voice I could manage.

"Afternoon, actually." He looked down at his watch and Damian stepped away from me. I immediately felt the warmth of him vanish from my space. I didn't like it.

"Oh, gosh, I should really get going," I mumbled, not sure how I was going to leave without putting pants on first.

"Well, actually, I was going to invite you to come along with us tomorrow. We're all going to visit my mother out of the city for the weekend and I wanted to see if you'd like to come along."

I was taken aback by his invitation, more focused on what he must think of me standing in Damian's room, wearing his clothes and yelling at him. He really was too kind. "That's such a nice offer, but um," I glanced at Damian who had once again taken his spot against the desk. His eyes were fixed on the floor. "I suppose if you don't mind," I said to him. To be honest, it would be nice to get out of this city for the weekend and maybe try to patch things up with Damian. Or maybe just avoid him altogether. He answered by shaking his head.

Victor smiled. "Excellent. I'll let my mom know to expect one more."


	16. Damian

The morning we left, it started snowing. A light, soft snow, but snow nonetheless, which did not make Rachel happy. We had decided to take two vehicles, mostly because I didn't feel comfortable leaving my car unattended all weekend on the GCU campus. It was the weekend before finals which meant most people would be partying simultaneously in celebration and in preparation for the next week. I'd been here before. I knew what happened at these parties. It was part of the reason Victor had planned this getaway at this particular time.

I threw Rachel's duffel bag in the trunk of my car before stuffing in my own two bags. "Why do you always bring so much shit whenever we go anywhere?" she asked, stepping up behind me and pulling on a pair of mittens over a pair of gloves she was already wearing. I didn't know anyone who hated the cold as much as Rachel. 

I slammed the trunk closed and watched her shiver, her brow pulling together in annoyance. "You can never be overprepared," I said, rubbing her upper arms with my own gloved hands, as if it would make her any warmer. I noticed that she relaxed under my touch anyway, leaning slightly forward toward me.

"Are we all ready to go?"

Wally, as usual, opted out of the gloves and parkas that were customary in the Gotham winters. Instead, he wore running shorts over a pair of leggings, a thin long-sleeved t-shirt clinging to his torso. He bounded over to us, his sneakers squeaking on the cement floor of the parking garage. Wallace loved to travel, even short distances, which explained his utter excitement. I chuckled when Rachel gave him a cold side eye. The juxtaposition of their attitudes always amused me. 

"I told him his bony ass is going to freeze in this weather. He just never listens to me." Victor was carrying two bags, one of them belonging to Kory, who was a couple paces behind him. She was staring down at her phone, only halfway paying attention to where she was walking.

"You may be smart, babe, but I can outrun the cold."

Victor rolled his eyes at Wallace before popping his own trunk. "So who's riding with who?" he asked, loading up the vehicle.

I glanced at Kory, who was still preoccupied, and nodded at Rachel. "Ride with me?" 

I still wasn't sure where I was at with Kory. We hadn't really talked about what had happened when she stumbled into my apartment in the middle of the night, drunk and seductive. She had been angry with me only shortly before we had ended up on my couch, my face between her thighs and her fingers in my hair. She had stayed the night, in my bed, like so many other girls, except it never went any further than that. I couldn't tell if she was mad at me for it or if she had been able to sort out her feelings and get over whatever had upset her in the first place. Judging by the fact that she seemed totally uninterested in choosing seats, I took it to mean that she wasn't over it yet.

Rachel's eyes were wide and she glanced at Kory, too. "Um, yah, totally," she replied slowly.

I made my way to the passenger side of my car, opening the door for her. "I only have one rule: no backseat driving."

"Your car only has two seats, dumbass." Wally stuck his tongue out at me as he slid into the backseat of Vic's jeep. 

"Oh god, am I going to die in this fucking car with you?" Rachel asked, in true Rachel fashion: dramatically.

I shoved her shoulder playfully. "Just get in the goddamn car."

I had kept it as mellow as I could, only driving ten over the speed limit through the country roads out of the city. When we left, Rachel had been white-knuckling anything solid she could get her hands on, checking her seatbelt more than once, even after I had assured her that she'd never be in a safer vehicle again. I had to explain that Alfred had helped me build it from the ground up, and if that man knew anything, it was cars.

Once she had relaxed, almost an hour into the drive, I decided to ask her some questions. Now that she and Kory were roommates, maybe Kory had divulged something, anything to her that might give me some insight into what was going on in her head. "So your first week with a roommate, how's it been?" I asked, not very smoothly. I knew how it may have seemed weird to her, answering questions about Kory, when we both knew that Rachel still had feelings for me. Mostly, I tried to pretend that they weren't there, that after we'd all found out about the crush she had on me, that it just went away. But I wasn't dumb. I could tell that she still felt something, which made me feel like a dick for putting her in this position.

She shrugged, staring out the front window. "I guess I don't have to get a cat now."

I cleared my throat, trying not to sound to desperate for information. "Does she seem okay, do you guys get along?"

Rachel was smart though and saw right through me. She turned to face me, pulling her leg up onto the seat, making me flinch. I thought about the snow that she was getting on the seat from her boot, but I tried to let it slide. I'd just have to have Alfred detail it when I went home for Christmas. "Do you have something specific you want to ask me, Day?"

I shook my head. "No, I was just making sure you guys were settled, that's all."

She sighed, seeming to believe my deflection. "Now that you mention it, Kory seems to be a little spaced out."

"How's so?"

I felt her glance at me when I responded too quickly. Damn, I needed to relax.

"No, I just mean that she seems a little distracted. She's been quiet, mostly keeping to herself. I assumed she was studying, but she's had her nose glued to her phone for the past couple of days. She's kind of..."

I waited impatiently while she searched for the right word. "Kind of what?"

"Worried. About something."

"Fuck," I muttered. 

"What, what does that mean?" She leaned her head against the headrest, exasperated. "What did you do to her?" 

"Who says I did anything to her?" I asked, defensively. I took one hand off the wheel and Rachel quickly pointed it at, making me replace it quickly. "Sorry," I mumbled.

She picked at her fingernails, delaying saying what she was thinking. "Have you guys, you know?"

Oh god, I couldn't believe she was asking me this. These so-called friends of mine surely didn't have the highest opinion of me. Or maybe they just knew me too well. "Have we what?" I asked, pretending that I didn't know what she was asking. She knew not to try to dig into my personal life, that was just an unwritten rule. If she wanted to play that game, I'd play.

"Have you, you know...slept together?"

She knew as well as I did that if the answer was yes, it would kill her. With other girls, she didn't care so much. One night stands, she could handle, she could laugh at, she could at least pretend that knowing I'd fucked another random girl was not a big deal. But if I'd told her that I'd done anything with Kory, who was now her roommate, who was now a part of our group of friends, it would mean that I had chosen someone else over her. It would be different.

"No," I replied softly, trying not to look at her. "No, we haven't had sex." I didn't need to ask her why she was questioning me and she didn't seem to need any more information.

"You should talk to her. If she's mad at you or whatever, you should just ask her why."

I felt the annoyance rising to the surface again. I knew why she was mad at me, I just didn't know _why_ she was mad at me. Kory claimed that I had been the sole reason for her breakup with Kal, that it was my fault she had to move in with Rachel, that she was in this situation at all to begin with. And I could admit, I was to blame, but she was equally responsible. We had both made the decision to hang out behind Kal's back and that wasn't just on me. We had both felt the attraction, the draw to be near each other. I couldn't be the only reason for her unhappiness. I wouldn't accept that.

"Look," Rachel piped up after I didn't respond. "You have to think about things from her perspective. She's new here. Kal was all she had. She just gave up everything she had to be with you, and now you're treating her kinda shitty."

"What the fuck, traitor?" I said, smiling.

"I mean, I'm riding in this car with you instead of her. How do you think that makes her feel?"

\---

We made the drive in less than three hours, which was pretty good timing, especially in this weather. Victor's mom had moved north of Gotham from Detroit after she and her husband had split up, taking little Victor with her. He had spent his childhood much like mine, spending time with his mom here and flying home to Detroit to be with his father. Maybe that was part of the reason we had grown so close. We'd almost been the same person.

Mrs. Stone lived on a quiet street on a fairly busy road lined with houses that all looked alike. Two-story, two-bedroom, white siding, black shutters, one car garage. Victor had told me that Detroit looked just the same as this, which he had speculated was the reason she had chosen this area to live. He figured it reminded her of home. 

I pulled into the driveway, Victor parking closely behind me. Too close. Which I was sure he did on purpose. I honked the horn three times before stepping out of my car, and Janet appeared on the front porch, her cardigan pulled tightly around her. "As I live and breathe, Damian Wayne, is that you?"

I waved, shielding the sun from my eyes with my free hand. "I'm home, Mama!" I shouted, smiling wider than I had in a long time. Mrs. Stone had been my second mother, the only mother figure I had when I wasn't in Dubai with my own mother. She had essentially raised me as Victor's brother, showing me the warmth and kindness that my father wasn't capable of. She never once made me feel like I was putting her out, something that both me and my father were grateful for. 

"Who you calling Mama?" Victor said, stepping out of the jeep and stretching his arms over his head.

"Hi, baby," she called waving to him while he unloaded the bags from the back of his car. "Wallace, have you been taking care of my son?"

"Not even a little bit," Wallace called back to her before bounding up to the front porch and wrapping his arms around her. They talked quietly, Mrs. Stone laughing and squeezing Wally tightly. She had that effect, making everyone feel like they belonged with her. It was a rare gift.

Victor lugged the three bags from his car up to the front door, pausing only to peck his mother on the cheek as he passed by. I carried both mine and Rachel's bags into the house, Mrs. Stone squeezing my shoulder tenderly as I neared. "Darling, you get more handsome every time I see you," she said, brushing my cheek. "And Rachel, you beautiful girl, it's good to see you."

Kory was the last to enter, glancing around nervously, clearly uncomfortable in another new setting. I dropped the bags at the foot of the stairs and made my way back to Kory. "Mrs. Stone, this is Kory Anders. She's...Rachel's roommate." Kory gave me a slightly confused look before taking Mrs. Stone's outstretched hand.

"It sure is nice to meet you, Kory. My, you are an angel, aren't you?" She stepped back, still gripping Kory's hand, looking her up and down. "I didn't know they made women this beautiful anymore. Damian, if you haven't claimed this one yet, you're out of your damn mind."

"Oh god, please, Mom. Will you leave her alone?" Victor mercifully interrupted, giving me a moment to compose my fluttering heart. I couldn't help but notice the smile that stretched across Kory's face from Mrs. Stone's compliment. Like I said, she had that effect.

"Whatever you say darling. Okay, lunch is almost ready. You kids can go get settled in and I'll call you when it's finished. Girls, I have you in the basement, and boys, you'll be in Victor's room upstairs."

It wasn't until she mentioned lunch that I noticed the delicious smell wafting from the kitchen. God, it felt good to be home.


	17. Damian

This was what it was like to have a family. A real family. That loved each other and enjoyed each other’s company and did stupid shit together like playing card games at one in the morning while everyone was slightly drunk. The snow had started to come down heavy as soon as the sun set, thwarting any plans we’d had of going to any of the local bars in the area. We had all ended up around the coffee table in the living room, a warm fire crackling in the fireplace, and plenty of whiskey for everyone to pass around. We’d been at it for hours, the five of us playing Uno, a game that I had always thought was for kids. Little did I know, when under the right circumstances, Uno was most definitely a game for adults.

We were on something like round one hundred and five, all of us swaying back and forth a little bit from the alcohol, when Victor shouted Uno again. He had won almost every round since we started playing, which didn’t surprise me. He had one of the best poker faces out of anyone I’d ever known. 

“How the hell do you have uno already?” Wallace asked, leaning in close to Victor, trying to see his last card.

Victor quickly leaned away, too quickly, and tipped over backward, laughing loudly. “Just because you’re losing doesn’t mean you get to cheat!”

We all laughed as Wallace dove on top of Victor, grabbing for his final card, knocking over the small stack of wood next to the fireplace.

“You idiots better shut the fuck up before you wake up Mrs. Stone,” I warned, taking another swig from my glass. I felt Kory’s glassy eyes watching me, but I didn’t look over at her. I had noticed that she’d been watching me all evening, sneaking glances when she thought I wasn’t looking. I was unsure if she was waiting for me to make the first move, to say something to her, maybe apologize, but there was no way I was going first. She was the one with the problem which meant that she would have to speak first. But she was holding out. And it was driving me mad.

Victor and Wallace ignored my warning, continuing to wrestle each other, each going for the other’s cards. Rachel, sat to my left and holding what appeared to be almost a full deck of cards, sighed loudly. Somehow, I kept drawing the draw four cards and Rachel was the one who suffered. There was no way she was winning this game. “Why don’t we just call it? Victor wins again and I’m going to bed.” She laid her cards down in front of her, face up, and moved to stand up.

“Wait, we’re not finished yet!” Victor yelled, jerking his hand away from Wallace.

I laid down my hand, too. “You know, it’s been fun, but I can only lose so many hands before it’s not fun anymore.” I sat back on the couch, rubbing my eyes. It had been a long day and I was worn out.

“You guys are sore losers,” said Victor, finally wrangling Wallace off of him and sitting up. He slapped his final card on the table. “I would’ve won on my next turn anyway.”

Rachel made her way around the table to where Kory sat on the floor, reaching out a hand. “Come on, Kory. I don’t think I can make it to bed without tipping over. I need to lean on you.”

Kory smiled, taking Rachel’s hand and standing up. Well, that was a good sign at least. The two of them getting along. Maybe spending some time with Rachel alone would put her in a better mood and she might be more willing to forgive me.

“Let us know if you need anything,” Victor said, waving as the girls stumbled their way to the basement stairs. He turned to me, a sparkling look in his eye, Wallace wrapped around his neck. “Hey, you want to light up before we go to sleep?” 

Mrs. Stone had always been relaxed about Victor and I smoking, but I wasn’t sure if she knew about the weed we would smuggle into her house. Thinking back on it, she must have known what we’d been up to at the time. Mrs. Stone was nothing if not observant. Normally, we’d climb out Victor’s window onto the roof facing the backyard and get high up there, talking about nothing at all. Obviously, it was too cold for that now, but Mrs. Stone was asleep, which meant we could crack one of the windows and get away with it.

“God, yes,” I answered, pushing myself up, feeling the room spin as I stood in front of the fire.

The three of us sat in Victor’s childhood room, huddled around one of the large bay windows, smoking the joint Victor had brought with him. There wasn’t very much of it, but there was just enough to mellow me out. Even something like this, sneaking a joint in the middle of the night, would’ve been something my father would never have tolerated. He would most certainly find out about it somehow and discipline me as he saw fit. No one, not Victor or even Helena, could understand what it had been like growing up at Wayne Manor, under the constant watch and scrutiny of my father. It pissed me off that there was no one who could understand me, no one who knew the pressure of being a Wayne like I did. I inhaled sharply, holding the smoke in my lungs for a moment, before exhaling.

“So you and Kory, how’s that going?” Wallace asked, taking the joint from me. I saw the warning look that Victor gave him, trying to let him know that it was probably a topic that shouldn’t have been brought up. “What?” he whispered.

I sighed. The fact that he was asking at all was a good sign. It meant that anything Victor knew about the situation, he hadn’t been telling anyone about it. “I think she hates me, man,” I replied. I watched the snow falling in the light of the moon and suddenly felt very relaxed. 

Wallace chuckled, passing to Victor. “You know you’re wrong, right?”

“How’s that?” I asked. The question came out, but I didn’t care about the answer.

“She was watching you all night. She was asking about you on the drive over. She’s interested in you. I think she just doesn’t know how to show it.”

I rubbed my eyes. “Kal was her first relationship. I can’t imagine she learned anything good about dating from him.”

“You should teach her,” Wallace replied, an insinuating tone to his response.

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“You know what that means. It’s the same way you get all those girls to sleep with you. Whatever charming moves you put on them, just do that to her,” he said with a wave of his hand.

Victor finally chimed in. “I think it’s more than that. I mean, it could be more than that.” 

Wallace looked from Victor back to me. “Do you want it to be more than that? You haven’t been with anyone since Donna, I just thought maybe you’d given up on the relationship thing.”

I clenched my fists and then flexed my fingers. Donna. She had done this to me, made me this way. That was just one more thing I’d screwed up, especially in the eyes of my father. He had been almost proud, expectant, that Donna and I would always be together and when she left, he had assumed I’d done something wrong. Maybe that was why I was reluctant to be with Kory now. Was I sabotaging a potential relationship with her because I was scared that she would leave me? Or because I was purposely trying to keep myself from having to endure my father’s approval or disapproval again?

“Donna fucked me up. Bad. But there’s something about her. Kory, I mean. She makes me feel something that Donna didn’t. I don’t know what it is about her.”

I watched Victor and Wallace exchange a look, both of them with smirks on their faces. I didn’t appreciate their ability to communicate telepathically, especially when it was about me. “What?”

\---

When I opened my eyes, it was still dark. The room was freezing and I realized we had forgotten to shut the window before we all passed out. I grabbed my watch next to me on the floor and struggled in the darkness to see where the hands were pointing. Four-thirty. I threw my arm over my eyes, trying to forget that I was conscious, with no luck. Wallace was snoring softly next to Victor in Victor’s childhood bed and for some reason, it warmed my heart. I was simultaneously happy for and jealous of them and their blissfulness.

I sat up, my bones creaking and my head throbbing. My mouth was like chalk so I crept out of the room and down the stairs to the kitchen for some water. I always hated myself after I drank too much, if only because of the hangover. 

I paused on the bottom step, hearing a small voice coming from the kitchen. Kory. She was talking to someone, but I couldn’t hear any other voices. I stepped closer, quietly, lightly placing my feet on the floor and keeping close to the walls so my shadow wouldn’t disrupt her. It seemed like at least some of the training my father had given me was worth something after all. I stopped when I reached the doorway to the kitchen, holding my breath and listening intently.

“Of course I’ll come see you…I feel like I shouldn’t have left...you said you didn’t need me.” 

Who was she talking to? Who shouldn’t she have left? I began to feel the rage inside me, warming my skin and making me feel hot. Was it Kal? Had I done all of this for her for nothing?

I stepped into the doorway, making myself known, enjoying the look of surprise on her face. Her eyes were wide like the moon, shining in the low light. “Hey, I’ll call you later and we’ll talk about it, okay? Okay.  _ Jag gillar dig _ . Bye.” She hung up her phone, the light reflecting blue on her face, before going dark.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” I said, grabbing a glass from the cupboard and making my way to the sink. I didn’t ask who she was talking to, wondering if she’d tell me without me having to ask.

“No, it’s okay, it was just...an emergency.” She pushed her long hair behind her ear, her gaze fixed on the floor. My father taught me a myth about lying. He told me that people who lie can’t make eye contact with whoever it is they’re lying to, but this was false. Liars always made eye contact in an attempt to prove they weren’t lying. Either Kory was a very good liar or a very bad one. I couldn’t tell.

“An emergency at four-thirty in the morning?” I downed the whole glass of water and filled it up again, waiting for her response.

She licked her lips and stuck her phone into the pocket of her sweatpants. There was a sliver of skin visible just above the waistband of her pants, her white t-shirt draped loosely over her body. She crossed her legs at her ankles, leaning against the counter next to me, and I noticed her feet were bare. “I, um, I wanted to tell you that…”

The room was silent while I waited for her to go on. The only sound was the ticking of the clock that hung on the opposite wall. I watched her watching the hand tick slowly and I imagined she was counting the seconds for some reason. It seemed like she had a hard time saying what she wanted, what she needed. I wondered if that was built into her or if someone along the way had made her like this.

Finally, she spoke. “I’m sorry for the way that I’ve been acting. Things between you and I have been...complicated. There’s something about us that’s so right, but for some reason, it’s not working. I don’t know if it’s me or you or something else. But there’s something in the way. And I’m sorry about that. I’m sorry.”

Her words shocked me. I hadn’t even expected her to talk to me, let alone apologize for her behavior. Was there even a need for her to apologize? After hearing it, I didn’t know anymore.

I hung my head, tearing my eyes from her face. “I know I’ve been difficult, too. I feel like maybe we got off on the wrong foot. I was dealing with some things and maybe this has all been way too fast and too soon. But I don’t think we should give up on it. Whatever it is. Not yet.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and nodded. “You think we can go back? Forget everything and start over?”

I drank the rest of the water in the glass and set it in the sink. “Well, there are some parts I don’t want to forget.” 

She took her bottom lip between her teeth, smirking. “Yah, me, too.”

I felt my heart racing, taking in the sight of her. No makeup, tired circles under her eyes, her hair draped over her shoulders, even darker in the moonlight. The thought of her body underneath her baggy pajamas. The softness of her skin, the feel of her heartbeat under my fingertips. I ran a hand through my hair, trying to compose myself. 

She pushed off from the counter, placing a warm hand over mine, squeezing gently. “Goodnight, Damian,” she said in a voice like candy. And I watched her walk away.


	18. Kory

I couldn't get back to sleep. I had woken up to call my father just to check in, make sure everything was okay, and I knew something was wrong. He had been short with me, he'd sounded almost nervous, which he never was with me. We were all each other had in the world and now he was keeping something from me. It was disturbing. I needed to figure out a way to find out what it was he was hiding from me. I hadn't planned on flying home after finals, but if that's what it took, I'd buy a plane ticket in an instant.

I waited until I saw the beginning of the sunrise before I stretched loudly, trying to wake up Rachel, who was sleeping on the couch next to me. I had only been able to drift off for a moment here and there before I gave up on sleep altogether. To keep my mind busy, I decided that I'd wake up Rachel and see if she wanted to cook breakfast for everyone. I still hadn't seen her cooking skills in action and now was a perfect excuse. "Rachel," I whispered loudly in her direction. "Are you awake?" I heard a groan coming from underneath the pile of blankets that she'd buried herself in and took that as a yes. "Would you like to demonstrate your culinary genius this morning, before everyone else wakes up?" Another groan. This time I wasn't sure if it was a yes or not. "Okay, I'm just going to wait for you upstairs. Come up when you're ready."

I made my way to the bathroom to brush my teeth and splash some cold water on my face. I debated whether or not to put on a little makeup before facing Mrs. Stone and the guys, but decided against it. I'd been up all night and I didn't have the energy to try and cover the circles under my eyes. I thought about running into Damian, the start he had given my heart, the way he looked like a dark apparition, a walking dream, I had to tear my eyes from him to keep myself from doing something I shouldn't. He had been so gracious and kind, attributes that he'd shown to me before and I had chosen to ignore. I was ready. I was ready now. But I needed it to be on my terms.

Finally, Rachel poked her head out from her blanket fortress. "Do you always wake up this early?"

I sat down on the couch opposite her, pulling my hair on top of my head and securing it with an elastic. "Not always. But I do prefer to be up when the sun is up."

She sat up fully, watching me fuss with my hair. "How the hell do you do that?" 

I paused, turning toward her in confusion. "Do what?"

She waved a dismissive hand toward me, throwing the blankets to the end of the couch. "The whole looking beautiful without even trying thing. It's a little annoying to some of us."

I chuckled, trying to take her words as complimentary instead of insulting. "Beauty is more than a person's appearance, Rachel."

"Easy for you to say."

By the time we got upstairs, the sun had fully risen and we could hear someone moving around upstairs. "It's Mrs. Stone. She goes to church every Sunday morning," Rachel explained, rolling her eyes.

"Well, we'd better have something for her when she gets down here," I said, digging through the cupboards for pots and pans, while Rachel dug through the refrigerator for ingredients.

"So, um, have you had a chance to talk to Damian at all?" She had opened a carton of eggs and had cracked a couple in a sizzling pan. Just the sound of the food cooking made my stomach grumble.

I turned on the coffee maker, trying to figure out her question. Were all his friends so interested in his love life? Was this something I was going to need to continually avoid if we were going to hang out together? "Uh, yah, we've talked a little bit," I answered, vaguely.

"And everything's all good?" She wouldn't meet my eyes, which gave me the feeling that she was either more interested than she was letting on, or she wasn't interested at all and was just trying to make conversation.

"Everything's great," I replied.

She finally looked up at me, blinking coldly. "That's great."

"Is there any reason in particular you're asking me about this?"

She shook her head. "No, I just want to make sure that when I come home to my apartment that I won't see you guys fucking on the couch or anything."

Her words stunned me into silence and I didn't know how to respond.

"Wait a second, who's fucking on the couch?" Victor appeared in the kitchen behind me, Wallace close behind him, placing a warm hand on my elbow, bringing me back to the moment. "Good morning, everyone. It smells great down here."

Rachel waved her spatula at him, returning to her normal self. "Well there's none for you until Mrs. Stone has her share."

On cue, Mrs. Stone made her way into the kitchen, wearing a maroon dress and a black coat, her matching maroon heels shining in the sunlight. "Oh, how thoughtful of you, girls. But I'm late already. I will take some of that coffee though." She bustled around the kitchen, the four of us trying to keep out of the way, before she headed for the front door. "It was so nice to have you all back home for the weekend. It was nice to meet you, Kory darling." Victor wrapped an arm around his mother's shoulders, pulling her close. "And you have fun with Wallace's family over break. Tell them all I say hello." Victor kissed her loudly on the head, nodding. "Damian, breakfast!" she called up the stairs before winking and turning out the door.

In the kitchen, Rachel was getting plates down from the cupboard, and loading them up with food. "Shouldn't we wait for Damian?" I asked politely.

"Damian's not much of a breakfast guy," she answered. The way she said it made me feel like she was trying to prove that she knew him better than me. I knew she was doing it to try and irk me, and I was doing my best to not let her, but it was difficult.

Everyone was sat down at the table, enjoying Rachel's cooking, which actually turned out to be really good, when Damian finally showed up in the kitchen, pouring himself a cup of coffee. "There he is!" Victor called, intentionally loud. Damian was wearing a black hoodie, the zipper undone, revealing his shirtless skin underneath, and black joggers that hung low on his hips. Before I knew it, I was choking on a piece of toast.

"Are you okay?" Wallace asked, lightly pounding on my back.

I nodded, trying to hide my embarrassment, taking a mouthful of orange juice to clear my throat. "Sorry," I muttered. I stared at Damian, who seemed unbothered by all of us, and noticed that Rachel was doing the same. And it all finally clicked in my head. So that was it. She was into him, too.

"What a sight to see. Damian up before noon on a Sunday. Is this an alternate dimension?" Victor joked.

"Ha ha," Damian said dryly. "If you jackasses weren't so loud, I'd still be sleeping like a baby." He came over to the table, resting a hand on the back of my chair and I felt the hairs on my arms stand up. I could feel the warmth from his body radiating over me from his close proximity. I wondered if my reaction was obvious to anyone else. "I think we should head out soon. I don't know about you guys, but I'd like to start studying for finals today. My dad will kill me if I fail any of my classes."

"Look at you," Wallace said, standing up to clear his plate. "All giving-a-shit and shit. This is different." He leaned in to peck Damian on the cheek, who leaned away quickly to avoid it, earning a giggle from Wallace. Damian took his empty seat, his body turned to face me, as everyone else starting clearing the table. He cleared his throat, his eyes traveling over my body, and I rested my chin on my hand, waiting for him to say something.

"Can I help you with something?" I asked, my voice low so that everyone in the kitchen couldn't hear.

"Uh, yah, I was thinking that maybe you could ride back with me."

I wasn't prepared for a direct answer from him; it was pleasantly unexpected. I was going to turn him down, but I wanted to soften the blow so I reached out and tucked a stray hair down off his forehead. His eyes were burning over me. "I think maybe we should take it slow. We're starting over and all. I don't think we should do anything to jeopardize it."

I watched as he clenched his jaw, working it back and forth. "Are you sure there's nothing I can do to persuade you?"

I shook my head, smiling, knowing how I was torturing him. "Maybe you should ask Rachel again."

\---

Finals week was long and stressful. I'd barely had any time to talk to Damian, or even Rachel, because I was spending so much time at the library, in the dark room, and working at the bar in between classes. I felt like I was running in a million different directions all week, eating so little that I was sure I would pass out any second.

Finally it was Thursday night, and most professors had finished with their classes, leaving students with an extra day before the break began. I had picked up an extra shift at the bar, willing to work extra to make up for the plane ticket I had decided to buy back home. I would only be gone for a week, but I knew that there was something my father was keeping from me, and I had to go home to figure it out. I'd been able to push my worry to the back of my mind until finals were over, and now that they were, going home was all I could think about.

The bar was busier than expected, with students getting out of classes early for break. There were groups of people milling around the pool tables in the back, patiently waiting their turn to play the winner in the next game. Every available table was taken, some people forced to stand next to their seated friends to join in conversations. I was carrying a tray of hot wings to a table of loud boys, who were debating loudly about who was going to win the soccer game that was on the TV behind them, when I saw Damian and his friends walk in. I couldn't help the way my heart stuttered, seeing him unexpectedly, and I smiled. I set down the plates of food as quickly as I could, before making my way over to them.

"Holy shit," Damian exclaimed, taking in all of the people packed into the small space. "Hi." He reached for me, sliding an arm around my waist in a possessive way that made a wave of heat sweep over my body. I rested my hands on his shoulders, letting him pull me close.

"Hey," I whispered, inhaling his scent. I waved at everyone behind him and they jovially returned the gesture. "I guess if you can find a table, feel free. It's been like this all afternoon."

Damian nodded at me, motioning for everyone to follow him. I watched as he made his way toward the back, a table magically clearing as he approached. I shook my head. He definitely always got his way.

"Hey baby, can we get some more beer over here, please?" My smile fell and it was back to work.

The hours passed easily now, the busyness making the time fly. I rushed around, fulfilling orders and refills, waving to Zan as he sat laughing with a new guy and his group of friends. He waved back. I watched Damian and Victor start a game of pool, Damian hitting the break with a loud crack. It was fun to watch him from afar, knowing that this was Damian in his element, not trying to impress me or anyone, just enjoying time with his friends. He laughed and Victor shoved him, and I noticed how they were definitely more like brothers than friends. Logan sat close to Rachel, having an animated conversation with Wallace, who sat opposite them. They all looked so happy and carefree. I checked my watch to see how much longer until my shift was up.

"Kory!" My boss called me over to the swinging black door, letting me into the less noisy kitchen area. The cooks were still busy, utensils clanging and clattering, food sizzling and frying. "Jayna called in tonight. Would you mind working a double?" he asked, with no remorse or pity.

Of course Jayna called in. On a night like this, she was probably already drunk and in bed with a new guy. I sighed, thinking about Damian and my friends. I guess I wouldn't be hanging out with them until after break. "Yah, sure I can take it."

I made my way back out into the dining room, squeezing past a crowded table, into the back where my friends were laughing loudly at something Logan had said. "Hey guys. My boss just asked me to pick up another shift for tonight. Please don't feel like you need to wait around for me, I won't be getting out of here for awhile."

There were boo's and groaning and even a "you suck" yelled in the direction of the kitchen from Logan. Damian stood close to me, leaning down to say something in my ear. "I'm staying on campus for break. We can just hang out later, okay?"

I still hadn't told anyone that I was going home for break, but I didn't want to add anymore negativity to the situation, so I just smiled and nodded.

As I left my friends behind, I checked on a few tables on my way back to the kitchen. I did my best to ignore the disgusting comments that some of the guys were making as I passed by, purposely standing too close to me so that I had to press myself against them to get through. I was glad Damian was having fun with his friends so he didn't have to see how these people treated me. The worst part was, it was like this all the time. People "accidentally" brushing against my breasts or grabbing a handful of my ass. Saying inappropriate things just loud enough for me to hear. It wasn't right, but I was used to it. And for the most part, I tried to brush it off and just do my job.

It was past midnight when I saw Damian putting on his jacket and the rest of the group standing up to leave. My heart sank, knowing that I'd missed out on a fun evening with the only people in this city that I enjoyed being with. I waved as they headed for the door, and they all waved back, Logan especially overenthusiastic. The rest of the bar was thinning out, making my job a little easier. I saw Zan and his friend getting up, too, but instead of heading for the door, they made their way over to me. "Crazy in here tonight, huh?" Zan commented, kissing me on the cheek. His date waited patiently behind him as he said hello.

"God, I don't think I've ever seen it so busy in here." I wiped my sticky hands on my apron.

"Well, I don't know if you noticed, but that guy over there has had his eye on you all night." Zan motioned toward the table of guys watching the soccer game, that had long since ended. It was unsettling, but he was right. There was one guy watching me, not even trying to conceal his interest. The way his eyes traveled over me made me sick.

"Well, thanks for pointing him out," I said to Zan, doing my best to ignore the guy staring at me. "I think I'm going home alone tonight though."

Zan raised his eyebrows. "Really? I saw you talking to Damian and his friends. Are you sure there's not something there?"

I wasn't in the mood to have a conversation about my love life with the one person who was sure to spread my business to everyone on campus, so I didn't even bite. "Tell Jayna she owes me. Big time."

I got back to work, unable to shake the feeling that the creepy guy was watching me. I didn't know if I was glad that Zan had pointed him out or not, but as the bar cleared out, it became more apparent that he was sticking around, waiting for my shift to end. It was almost three in the morning, closing time, the bartender calling for last call. The guy who was watching me stood up with his friends making as if he were going to leave, before diverting from them and making his way over to me. I was clearing a table, bent over a table wiping it down, when I felt him stand close behind me, every nerve ending in my body on edge. I stood up quickly, turning to face him, taking in his glassy eyes and wobbly stance. "Can I help you?" I asked coldly.

"You looked a little lonely over here. Just wanted to see if you'd like some company." His words were slurred. I shoved past him, knocking him slightly off balance.

"I'm fine, thanks. You should go. I think you're friends are waiting for you."

"My friends are gone, sweetheart. It's just the two of us." He took a step toward me, putting a hand on my hip and my skin crawled.

"I'm sorry, but we're closing up. You need to go home," I snarled. I always tried to be professional, even with slobs like this guy, but once they started to get handsy, I tended to lose my cool.

"You seem uptight, baby. Come home with me, I can fix that for you." He gripped my upper arm, his thick fingers digging into my skin.

I felt tears stinging the back of my eyes. I wasn't scared, so it must have been rage. "You need to leave. Now." The look in my eye must have been enough to convince him that I was serious. He let me go, raising his hands in the air in defense and backed off.

He stumbled toward the door. "Bitch," he muttered before stepping out into the cold.


	19. Damian

My phone buzzed on the coffee table, jolting me back to consciousness. I had drifted off on the couch in front of the TV after taking one of the pills I'd scored from Connor at the bar that evening. Since my father had discovered my stash at the gala months ago, I'd gone without any kind of upper, downer, or anything in between and it was good to have something to mellow me out again. I'd even gone to the corner store to buy a new tin of mints, dumping them in the trash outside the store as soon as I could. 

The truth was, I was lonely. Facing the idea of spending the holiday break alone on campus while everyone else rushed home to their families admittedly made me depressed. I could have responded to the call I'd gotten from Alfred earlier that week, accepting his invitation to spend break with him and my father, but instead, I'd ignored it. It made me feel like a shitty person, but knowing that Kory would be here for break, too, was the one silver lining in the whole situation. Plus, I couldn't face my father after how I'd acted the last time I saw him. 

I picked up my phone when it wouldn't stop buzzing, checking the caller. It was Kory. And it was three in the morning. I cleared my throat before answering, doing my best to sound wide awake. "Hello?"

"Hey, Damian. I know it's super late...or super early...or whatever, but I have a favor to ask. God, I hope I didn't wake you. There's this creep who won't leave the bar and I was just wondering if you'd be willing to walk me home." Her words came out quickly, almost frantically, and I rubbed my forehead, trying to keep up.

"Uh, yah, no, I was already awake," I lied, not even believing myself. "I'll be there in ten minutes." I hung up before she could thank me and stepped into my boots by the door. 

"What are you still doing up?"

Wallace appeared in the kitchen, shirtless, and rubbing his eyes in the dim light. He had come back with Victor, spending the night here before they went to visit his family in the morning.

"Kory, she needs someone to walk her home. I'll be back in a few."

"Hey," he said stopping me as I opened the door. "Are you doing okay?" The look of concern on his face immediately brought a flash of anger to the surface, but I did my best to stifle it. He was just trying to show he cared.

"Yah, I'm all good, I swear. I'll be back."

I stepped out into the bitter cold, wishing I'd bought a warmer coat instead of a fashionable one. I made the short journey, a few blocks, back to the bar, stopping outside the door. I glanced around me, not seeing any creepy dudes lingering in the area, and knocked on the glass. She came to the door, pulling on a pair of black gloves before waving over her shoulder at her manager. "Yep, I'll be fine. Thanks for letting me wait inside." She turned to me, shutting the door behind her, and I heard a key in the lock, officially closing up the bar for the night. "Hey," she breathed, her eyes lighting up as she smiled up at me. "Thank you so much for doing this. God, it's freezing out here tonight."

I was actually glad for the cold air on my skin. It brought me back to the surface, sobering me up in the short amount of time I'd spent out here. "Are you okay? Was the guy harassing you all night? You should've told me sooner, I would have done something while I was here."

She waved a hand, turning to head back home. "No, it's okay. There's nothing you could have done. This right now, this is enough." I saw her shiver and I stuck out my elbow for her to take a hold of. She hesitated before sliding her arm through mine, holding me so tight that I wasn't sure I could pry her off me if I wanted to. Which I definitely didn't.

We walked quietly back to the apartment, the full moon shining brightly down on us. I absorbed these few minutes, having her close to me, enjoying the comfortable silence we shared, even in the chill of the night. I couldn't stop myself from stealing glances down at her, admiring her beauty that never ceased to amaze me. How did a person look so good without even trying?

Approaching the door to my apartment, my heart began to sink. I didn't want to spend anymore time away from her than I had to, so I took a chance and invited her inside. To my surprise, she accepted, stepping into the warm apartment ahead of me. "Can I get you anything? Tea or something?"

"Um, no thanks, I think I'm okay. Do you mind if I um...can I stay here for the night, actually? Is that too forward?"

I was a little taken aback by her request, slightly shocked that she was the one requesting to spend the night instead of me asking her. I remembered the last time she was over here, in my space, and what we had done on the couch. The way her soft skin felt under my fingertips. Her heavy breathing. I'd do anything to hear it again. But she had said she wanted distance, to take it slow, and I was willing to do that if it meant that eventually, I could have her.

"Of course," I nodded. "Why don't you take my bed and I'll sleep out here on the couch. Come on back, I'll get you set up." I yawned, leading her back to my bedroom, memories flooding back to me here, too. I tried to shake the images from my mind as I grabbed a couple of blankets from the closet and a pillow off the bed. "It's all yours, make yourself comfortable," I said, my eyes flicking over her face.

"Damian, wait," she said in a low voice, grabbing my elbow and stopping me on my way out the door. She hesitated, struggling to come up with the words she wanted to say. "Thank you," she finally managed, and I smiled at the simplicity of her gratitude. Her eyes were bright, searching my face, but I wasn't sure what for. 

"I'll always be here if you need me."

She stood up on her tiptoes, pecking me gently on the cheek, taking a step back to gauge my reaction. She did it again, but this time her lips found mine, pressing softly and warmly against me, and I felt it spread through my body. It was different than any other time we'd kissed, with more feeling, more meaning behind it this time. I let the blankets I was holding fall to the floor, wrapping my arms around her, pulling her close to me, every nerve inside me coming alive. I slid my hands to the backs of her thighs, lifting her up, wrapping her legs around my waist. I pushed the door shut with my foot, kicking the blankets into the hallway, stumbling in the process, eliciting a giggle from her while she watched me struggle. 

Once we were safely inside my room, the mood changed. She moved her tongue against mine, slower and more deliberate, her fingers pulling lightly at my hair. I moaned, pulling away from her. "So what happened to taking it slow? Do you realize what you're doing to me?" I asked, my voice husky and desperate. 

She bit her bottom lip, unwrapping her legs from my body. She stood in front of me, close enough that I could still feel the warmth of her body, and pulled her shirt over her head. "What is this, some kind of Kory brand of torture?" I joked while she unbuttoned her pants.

She pushed me back onto the bed before sliding out of her black jeans, kicking them to the side. "You talk too much," she murmured, pressing her lips to my neck. I inhaled the scent of her: fruity mixed with the lingering smell of the alcohol that had attached itself to her from working at the bar. It was intoxicating, making my head swim. She crawled on top of me, pushing me back, her hands finding their way under my shirt. I tried keeping my hands to myself, to let her lead the way with this. Maybe this was what she needed. To be the one in control for once, with no one telling her what to do or how to do it. If I could just let her be herself in this moment, maybe she could learn to trust me in the future, too.

She'd managed to pull my shirt over my head, laughing as one of my elbows got caught in the sleeve. It was the most magical sound, her laughter in the dark of my room. I grabbed her wrist when she reached for my belt. "Slow down," I whispered against her lips.

She pulled away to look me in the eye, her brow creased in seriousness. "Damian. I trust you. I want this tonight."

I sat up, holding her on my lap, her arms resting on my shoulders. "I've waited so long to hear you say that."

She smiled, running a hand through my hair, kissing me on the forehead as my fingers found the clasp of her bra. She slid it off, tossing it to the side and my lips found the soft skin of her breasts. I heard the hitch in her breath as she grinded down against the jeans I was still wearing. She reached for my belt again and this time I didn't stop her. She stood up, removing her panties, and made her way back to my lap. _She's in control, she's in control_ , I kept reminding myself as her skin touched mine. I slid two fingers inside her, moving slowly, noting how wet she was. Her fingers gripped the back of my neck, her hips barely moving back and forth against my hand. I had to keep in mind that she'd never done this before. It was always hard to imagine what this scenario was like for someone who had never experienced something like this, something that I'd done so many times that it had become routine. This was new territory for her and as much as I didn't want to, I had to take it slow.

I heard the familiar breathing pattern, the one that told me she was close, and I stroked her with more urgency, eager to bring her over the edge. She tipped her face away from mine, her mouth hanging somewhat open as her eyes met mine and she came undone. She kissed me hard, sending shockwaves through my own body, before she relaxed again, catching her breath. "Fingers?" I asked

"Numb," she answered.

I rested my hands on her hips, giving her a moment to come back down. I kissed her shoulder, her collar bone, the space between her breasts, and felt her heart thudding there. I glanced up at her face, waiting for her to give me the okay to take it to the next level. I gripped myself, feeling how hard I was, and pressed myself into the folds of her skin. She watched my face, apprehension crossing her own. "Are you okay like this?" I asked, lining myself up with her entrance. She nodded quickly, her fingernails digging into my shoulders as I lifted up her hips and lowered her down on top of me. She gasped, kissing me, and then pulling away, her body unmoving. I exhaled, controlling myself by letting her have control. I felt my own heartbeat speed up as I relished the feeling of being inside her. "It hurts?" I asked and she nodded. "Take it slow," I instructed, amused by the restraint in my own voice, "and just do what feels good."

She began moving, the same way she had against my fingers, and I watched her face turn from hesitant to confident. Her eyes were closed as I filled her, a thin layer of sweat forming on my skin, my gaze never leaving her face. When she was close again, her eyes returned to mine before she came around me, her fingers in my hair, and her chest heaving. "Damian, I-" 

I kissed her before she could say anything else, flipping her onto her back on the bed. I pushed deep inside her, one of her legs wrapping around my waist. It didn't take long before I reached my limit, groaning loudly as I came inside her. "Goddammit," I moaned in her ear, taking pleasure in how tight she was, how warm and perfect she was. I collapsed on top of her, her fingers gently stroking my back, rhythmically, almost putting me to sleep. "So I guess we're not taking it slow," she mumbled against my hair. 

I rolled off her, pulling her onto my chest and pulling a blanket over us to shield us from the cold air. "I mean, for us, it was pretty slow. I think you know that I wanted to do this from the first time that I saw you."

I brushed the hair from her face and she blinked up at me. "I'm sorry I didn't see it sooner."

"What?" I asked.

She snuggled herself closer to me, her warm skin making mine even warmer. "How great you can be."

But I wasn't sorry. I wasn't sorry because this night had been perfect. She had been perfect and there's no way it would have felt the same if we hadn't been through all that we had up until now. It led us to this moment, to right now, and I was happy.

"I'm leaving tomorrow," she whispered against my skin.

"You're what?" I asked, unsure that I'd heard her correctly.

She rested her chin on my chest, looking directly at me. "I should've told you sooner, but I'm going back to Sweden. Just for a week or so. My father, I think he needs me and I can't say no to him."

I felt a little dizzy as I started to realize what this was. "Is that why you slept with me? Because you're leaving?" I tried not to sound cold and hurt, but fuck it, I was.

"Mm-mm," she murmured, tracing my lips with her fingers. "I slept with you because you make me feel safe and cared for and you do just about anything I ask at the drop of a hat. I admire you and I respect you and I hate you because you have impossibly perfect eyelashes," she said smiling.

I lifted my heavy eyelids, smiling back at her for catching me off guard. "Thanks, I got them from my mother."

"She must be beautiful then."

"She sure is. Maybe I'll take you to the Middle East to meet her someday."

"I'd like that. And your father, do I get to meet him, too?"

This is where I started to close up. My father was a sore spot for me and I didn't like talking about him with anyone, especially not her. She still didn't even know that I was a Wayne. "You wouldn't like my father." My tone was clipped and she realized it.

"Oh no, have I pushed a button?" she asked playfully, tapping the end of my nose.

"Don't think I don't know what you're doing," I replied, swatting her hand away. She laughed.

"Yah, what's that?"

"Getting all personal and shit. You're using your hooks, digging them into me."

She climbed on top of me, her long hair hanging over both of our faces, and I felt the heat stirring between my legs at her touch. "And this evil master plan you think I have, is it working?" She kissed me slowly, running her palms over my chest.

"It might be."


End file.
